Long Live the Queen
by Mazzie May
Summary: Four years Post Ending, spoilers. How far would you go for freedom? What sacrifices would you make? Would you wage war against the Gods? UPDATED Chapter Eight is finally up!
1. Second Opinion

**Author's Note: This is going to be epic. God. Dammit.**

**Story Rating: T  
Chapter Rating: K+  
Summary: How far would you go for freedom? What sacrfices would you make? Would you defy the very Gods?**

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**Long Live the Queen**  
Chapter One: Second Opinon  
_By: Mazzie May_

"_This isn't a epidemic anymore. It's a pandemic."_

"_The plague spread through again."_

"_Plague of dense Mist. The Hume's cannot breathe it."_

"Why have you done this?"

"You must do as we ask, Descendent of the Dynast-King."

"What is it you want?"

"We want the Dynast-Queen."

"I will know no more."

"_The children…!"_

"_Deformed in their sleep!"_

"_My babies!"_

"Stop this madness!"

"Become the Dynast-Queen."

"I am no puppet of yours!"

"_Three more airships crashed."_

"_Hundreds dead."_

"_The Sand Sea has over flowed."_

"_What harm have we done the Gods?"_

--

"…and that's everything that's happened in Dalmasca." Ashe looked straight at Larsa, waiting for a reply. He looked so different from the thirteen-year-old emperor she'd waved good-bye to. He sat stiff, though hunched forward, his mouth resting against laced fingers as he thought. He looked stricken by the news.

"So, they mean for you to take up your blade and strike us all down?" She turned to face Al-Cid, who sat casually on the greatly stuffed sofa against the wall. "And that will…" he flicked his wrist once, twice. "Stop these catastrophes?"

"So they promise," Zargabaath grumbled.

"But they have yet to make this promise, yes?" Al-Cid asked, flicking his wrist again. "They only tell her to become the Dynast-Queen when she asks them to stop. It does not mean they will."

Ashe nodded once. "That's true."

"Then do not consent. We've nothing to gain," the Rozzarian Prince replied, leaning back into the thick upholstery, shaking his head. Ashe wondered if it was to further his statement, or to get the hair out of his eyes.

"Your opinion, Lord Larsa?" Everyone looked to the young ruler at Zargabaath's question. He stared out past Ashe into the glass doors behind her. Behind her was the veranda. Gray cinderstones made up the flooring, walls and pillars that held the awning above. Beginning in the middle and extending to the railing was a lovely, tasteful raised pool. Water spilled into it from three small falls. The edges and lowers stones of the railing and pillars were dotted with large moss pads, the upper area wrapped in ivy. Normally, it was all cool colours, but the sun was beginning its decent making everything in the meeting room look very yellow-orange.

He was quiet, his gaze far away, but still unwavering. Finally, he spoke, still watching the sun slowly sink. "Even if the Queen Dalmasca should take up sword and shield against us, that would not be enough." He dropped his still laced hands down onto the old table. "She'd have to defeat us to make Dynast-Queen."

Al-Cid balked. "Which Dalmasca is in no position to do."

"It'd have to be a kind of legal agreement, then," she said quietly, thinking out loud.

"One that my father would never agree to." Al-Cid held out his hand, and one of his 'birdies' handed him a large drink saucer, filled with a very red liquid. Wine, maybe. He took it. "He does not fear the Gods. None in Rozzaria do." He took a small, slow sip. "Most of Rozzaria does not even believe in them."

"What do they consider the plague?" Ashe asked in surprised. Were all Rozzarian's as full and sure of themselves as Al-Cid? She didn't know; she'd never been. Ashe had politely and firmly refused all of the over zealous prince's invitations.

"Just that," he said with a shrug. "A plague." He took another long swallow and she half-scowled. He smiled around the glass.

She narrowed her eyes, almost angry. "The Sand Sea?"

Another careless shrug. He rolled the glass in a gentle circle. "It is a sea. Made of sand. In the desert." He stopped the slow rotation and the thick liquid continued swirl and she was sure it was wine. "One should have expected it to spread eventually."

Now she _was_ angry. "The children, raining oil?"

"They say the children are victim to the plague, but they're immune system is so undeveloped, it effects them in worse ways. And for the oil…" He held the glass up and the 'birdie' refilled it, despite it only being half empty. He never took his eyes away from Ashe's. "It does not pollute our water. It is a hassle in the streets, yes," he tilted his head to the side in mild acknowledgement, "but that is all."

She'd had enough of his remarks. "And your opinion is what again, Lord Larsa?" she asked, turning away from the pompous man.

He finally pulled his eyes away from the orange ball and looked at her. He still seemed as though he wasn't there. "My opinion is that the Queen Dalmasca be very careful these next few morrows." He gazed back out the glass. "Who knows what the Gods will do to get what they want." She wondered if was referring to his brother. She didn't ask.

--

A short time later, they all filed out of the office and into the open corridors—_skywalks, they're called_, Ashe reminded herself—to the main palace. Looking over the railing revealed the beautiful city of Archades; the unique buildings covered in vegetation, the colours and shadows that are in constant change during dusk. But what took away from all of that was the quiet. There were hardly any people about.

Everyone was scared of catching the White Plague. The silence was long and hard in a place that was so full of noise. Even in Dalmasca, the heart of the disease, people bustled about. As she descended the stairs, the heavy feeling in her stomach rose a little knowing that she was the cause of all of this.

The Marquis had not been able to join them for he'd contracted the plague himself. The sickness was bad enough, but he was over sixty now. She couldn't imagine he had too much longer to live. It was a very blue thought; one more person from the innocent and clean part of her life was to be taken away.

After some polite good-byes, she turned away, ready to catch the airship to see her uncle and thinking about how the sinking ball of light made her light blue dress appear to be a very unattractive green, when someone caught her arm. She turned to Al-Cid.

"The weight of world is on your shoulders, Highness." He stared hard at her. It wasn't very often that his eyes were serious, especially when dealing with her. They were dark and devoid of humor as he looked down at her. "Where are your friends to help you lift it?"

She smiled quickly, and she knew it wasn't a nice smile, but mean and tight and didn't care. "They are not here."

He pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as he let her go. "I've never been one for weight lifting, my self, but—" and he took her hand, kissed the place just past her knuckles. "—I am a great spotter."

She said, "Thank you," and meant it. She meant it enough to let him kiss her hand one more time and wait for him to let it go instead of pulling away. "But I will not hide behind Rozzaria."

"No, no, of course not," he said quickly, the flirtatious low tone returning. "By all means, _use_ Rozzaria." Then he smiled something suspicious and walked away, his flock of birdies in tow, leaving her to blush a bit; Princes and Princesses were often referred to as the country itself. _Use Rozzaria_… As she watched him go, she wondered just how a Prince got away with such an attitude. Well, maybe it was because he was a prince Al-Cid was allowed to do what he did. Shaking her head, she wondered not for the first what the King and Queen Rozzaria must be like, to have a son like that.

She clucked her tongue as the stiff wind slammed her from behind, sending her hair into frenzy. It'd grown out since her adventures with sky pirates. Just past her shoulders and with its length came wide curls. She tried in vain to calm it back down, when the wind suddenly wasn't at her back.

She turned and smiled her thanks to Basch, his large armor clad form shielding her from what would most-likely be horrid tangles. He smiled down at her. Or so she envisioned; hard to tell with the helmet on. They began walking, the heavy _thunk_ of his armor echoing against the stone and brick buildings.

He seemed to have something to say, but waited. It took her a moment to realize why. "You've status to address me, Judge. By all means, do so." Because of rank, if they'd wanted to speak, she would've had to address him first. Now that he was Judge Magister, he had permission do otherwise. He shook his head.

"Not I. Garbranth. Basch Fon Ronsenberg has no right to speak to a Queen first." Despite all the metal, she could still here the bitterness through his helmet. So much bitterness. Ashe knew it wasn't directed her at, but still felt a quick flash of anger. She intended to let it go.

"So you say, though you are wrong," she said, looking to her right. She watched their shadows, stretched out so far, and thought they looked how their owners felt. The wind came up quickly behind them filled with leafs and petals it stole from the sides of buildings. The air seemed to ricochet off the walls in the narrows passages; the kidnapped leafs riding the otherwise invisible current, spiraling violently past them. Ashe sympathized with the little pieces of foliage, encouraging their vain attempts to escape their fate.

"Your Highness," Basch began quietly. She jumped. His voice seemed to rumble with the helmet on. Or maybe he always had such a voice, one like distant thunder. "I do have something to say." Yes, like the clap that promises rain over Giza, but not Rabnastre. A definite storm, but nowhere near.

She realized he was waiting for her consent. She turned away from the struggle in the air and to him. "What is it?"

"Did you mean what you said to Prince Rozzaria?" She blinked. One, twice, three times. Did she mean what? She's said many things to Al-Cid over time. She stared at the dark metal, wishing she could see his face. Her father had taught her how important it was to look someone in the eye while speaking. One could imagine how conversations with the Judges grated her nerves. But with Basch… A helmet so carefully designed to shield didn't suit him. On him it seemed more like something to hide behind.

She tilted her head, squinting against the setting sun's reflection off the chrome that detailed his armor. Chain mail grinded against thick protective plates as he removed the helmet and held it to his side. His face appeared to glow, much like she did atop the tower. "Do you truly believe your friends are nowhere to be found?"

_Oh_. So he'd heard that, had he? There was a kind of desperation in his voice. It was a soft, only an undertone, but still present. She knew he sought the truth, as he always would from her, but she also knew what he wanted to hear. Ashe was never one to lie. Except the whole 'Amalia' thing, but that had been under certain circumstances and perfectly expectable.

Her honest, "Yes," and Basch's neutral, but caring expression crumbled into complete guilt. Ashe was still looking into his suddenly sad eyes, and could practically hear all of the 'If only I had stayed' thoughts that raced about his mind. She winced, tried to pass it off as squinting because of the sun and faced away from him.

The wind burst past them twice before he spoke. "I will come if you need me."

"You are Judge Magister, serving only the Empire." She began picking at her gloves' lace. They were orange-red in the sunset. "You can't run off to save a helpless and clueless queen."

Another break of silence. One uninterrupted by wind. "Lord Larsa would allow it, should I ask."

Her voice remained distant, automatic. "You serve the Empire—"

"I serve Dalmasca first."

She spun around, suddenly unreasonably angry at him. "And before that, Landis!" She threw her hands into the air, overtaken with her sudden rage. "I shan't seek help from a man who switches sides when the one before calls for too much effort!"

And there it was. Finally said. The unnamed tension between them, bloated and ugly, growing with every meeting they'd had since he'd left finally had a title. She knew why he had to go with Larsa. She knew that out of everyone, he was the only one with an actual excuse not to be around her. It was completely logical and certainly in the best interest of Ivalice and, in turn, Dalmascca.

Ashe just hated it. Hated being by herself. Nearly isolated because Vaan had dreams to fulfill with Penelo as his designated shadow, because Fran didn't believe in staying in one place for too long, because treasures and tombs had claimed Balthier's heart in ways she could not and because Basch was too damn big of a coward to take the road less traveled. To stick it out with her.

The cold wind felt good against her burning face and neck. She huffed in and out, still angry. Sorry, but angry. "You owe me no guilt, Judge," she breathed hard, though her tone was even, diplomatic. "You confuse your self with Vossler; he was sworn to aid me, not my country. You were sworn to protect my country, not me."

Guilt in his eyes shifted to something else. Regret? Or was it pity? Whatever it was, it made her angry again. That's all she ever was anymore; angry, irritated and upset. "If there's nothing else, _Gabranth_," it sounded like a curse, and there was flinching around his eyes. "I suggest you return to the Emperor." With that, she began walking towards the Aerodome.

"I am here, should you need!" he called suddenly. She didn't turn around or give any other kind of sign that she acknowledged or cared. It wasn't so blustery father down the corridor, more like a tough breeze that carried Basch's words with her, the air current pulling the echo along.

She stopped and looked behind her. He wasn't there. "_I am here, should you need!" _Ashe didn't need anything. She didn't need the Marquis' help. She didn't need the Nethicite. The Queen entered the Aerodome and waved off questions about where the Judge who was supposed to be escourting her was. And she didn't need him or anyone else.

With those thoughts in mind, she couldn't help but wonder why she spent the entire duration of the flight to Bhujerba in her private quarters, wiping at stubborn tears.

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**Author's Note: And so it begins. I have no idea how long this is going to take me to write, but it's going to become my priority. I have up to chapter four outlined and that's almost like the end of the prologue Also, scattered chunks are done, too. I'm not sure how long this is set after the end of the game. I'm banking on four or five years. Honestly, and feel free to laugh, I had a dream of a movie trailer for this story. The only parts I have solidly written up are the pieces I saw. I'll be discovering just as much with the rest of you. Jesus, I'm a shitty writter.**

**R&R please, commentary desperately needed during this project.**


	2. Calm Before the Storm

**Author's Note: Before anyone says otherwise, I love Halim Ondore. Stuff it.**

**Story Rating: T  
Chapter Rating: T  
Chapter Summary: Everyone must make sacrifices. It just seems to hurt more when the sacrifice doesn't feel sacrified.**

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**Long Live the Queen**  
Chapter Two: Calm Before the Storm  
_By: Mazzie May_

Ashe stared down at the long, pale face of her dear uncle, his heavy, slow, choking breathing the only sound in the room. He opened his eyes, swollen and red, slowly and it took them a few minutes to focus. When he tried to smile, it was the single saddest, most pathetic thing she's ever seen. He must've known what he looked like because he tried again, still failing, and her heart broke in a way she hadn't felt before.

At least her father and Rasler's deaths had been quick. They didn't suffer. She didn't have to watch them hurt. Here was her uncle, her wonderful, fantastic, precious uncle whom loved her unconditionally and offered her support in ways that made it appear that she was doing _him_ the favor, dying. Struggling to breath, wheezing painfully through bloodless, cracked lips that were sadly pulled up in a broken and battered smile.

"I'm… so glad…" His voice was very faint and far away, forcing her to drop down to her knees and lean over him to hear. "Glad to see…you, Ash… shelia." She wished she wasn't so close, but she couldn't hear him otherwise. The plague was spread through way of mouth; a cough, sneeze, speech… Just about every form of secretion.

The infection began when the plague reached the lungs, where it invaded and replicated. The primary site of infection in the lungs was called the Ghon focus. Further spread was through the bloodstream, to the more distant tissues and organs where some kind of secondary plague lesions could develop in lung apexes, peripheral lymph nodes, kidneys, brain, and bone. After that, it was all over.

As she leaned away and took his hand, she thought that it spread to ever place possible within her uncle.

She carded her other hand through his silver aged hair and leaned her cheek against his clutched hand. He had always been so much bigger than her, but his hand felt thin and weak, his cheek bones hallowed out, the wrinkles of smiles and frowns deeper than she ever remembered. He continued to wear the crippled smile and she felt tears.

She didn't want him to be glad to see her. This was her fault. She continued running her hand over his head, trying to smile back. Her lips twitched and quivered, making more of a show of teeth than a real smile. It felt like a lie. He could see her discomfort and his weak attempt at happiness drooped with the corners of his mouth.

Through everything that happened, from her father's death to now, she always looked at what was in front of her. When fellow resistance members were tortured, when innocent people were forced to suffer, she forced herself to watch. If she couldn't do anything for them, she had to experience the pain with them.

She failed her uncle twice as she closed her eyes. When she opened them, he was attempting to smile again. She wanted to cry.

He licked his lips and parted them, closed them. He was getting ready to say something. She came forward again. "How…are you?"

"Dalmasca is continuing on, despite everything." She rested her head on his chest as she always did when she came to visit. She used to do it on the right side, but she couldn't anymore; that lung was gone. Well, not _gone_ gone, but down. Because the plague was central in the lungs, that's where the most damage took place. In hopes of preventing the disease from continuing to pump itself through the invective's system, doctors collapsed one of the lungs, giving it time to heal its lesions. They called it "resting". Ashe had to be careful where she lay her head on the left side just as well; because one lung was down, the other had to work a little harder. Already swollen from infection, the doctors cut bone in the chest cavity away to make room for expansion.

Her eyes drifted out of focus as the bedding just beneath her nose raised father up than the place beneath her ear and cheek. Ribs were missing. She listened to the inner workings of his chest through the sheets, the wet noise his lung made as he drew slow, struggling breaths sounded like _ronci,_ like paper being crumpled. His heartbeat was slow and hard. She envisioned a strong man punching at a wall under water. There were other sounds she couldn't place and she hated herself for not knowing if they were due to the plague, or if it was much quieter than usual due to everything dying.

_Dying…_ Halim Ondore was dying. Uncle Ha'li.

The lung rose, caught then continued. "And it's ruler?" So raspy…

She sighed with him. "Still making mistakes."

He coughed a laugh. "Still _learning."_ She thought he might be smiling again, and didn't sit up. His weak laugh seemed to echo beneath her ear, the wet, ratty noise in his lungs increasing. A thin hand slowly came atop her head. He mimicked her, though he was more petting her hair than running his hand through it. She closed her eyes, and just listened.

The determined beats of his heart began to grow farther and farther apart. She opened her eyes when there was nothing. She pulled away from underneath his still hand, and turned slowly, scared to see foggy glass eyes. Instead, she found one of the Occuria floating across from her.

Ashe knew fear. Blood and fear. . She knew fear that made her burn and fear that made her blood run cold. She knew fear that made her blood pump faster, slow down and stop altogether.

The Occuria scared her so much she wasn't sure she even _had_ blood.

Every member was unique, something to set them apart. The one that presented itself was pale blue, its Mist colder than the others and a different texture, something near powdery. Mist swirled around it and out, reaching out, touching Halim. The Mist made its way towards her. She hissed, pulling herself back, away, desperate to not be touched, nearly tossing herself backwards. The movement was fast and awkward, twisting her about, and she was glad her dress was only long enough to reach mid thy and that the long sleeves were tight; she'd have been tangled with cloth otherwise.

It watched her with cool, boring eyes. "Would you like me to stop?" The voice was an echo within an echo, a loud whispered hush. A voice appropriate for a room filled with fragile things, things so fragile too much noise would shatter them.

Ashe drew her legs in, all her weight on her arms and right thy as she pushed herself up enough to look over her shoulder. To _glare_ over her shoulder. "You've killed him."

"No," and the Mist seemed to vibrate with the sound. The Mist spasmed with every word. "This one lives," and Ashe realized her uncle's breathing continued. She used the support her long boots gave her ankles to take away some of the effort from her upper body as she pushed herself onto her knees and up standing in one motion. "For how long…is up to you."

She knew what it wanted. What they wanted. Ashe balled her gloves hands into fists, fighting to keep a blank face. Halim was alive. _I can buy him time without agreeing_, couldn't she? Even as the thought occurred to her, she let it slide away; this was a God. An Occuria. The Makers of all, the Seers of all, the Destroyers of all. It would know if she was planning something. They'd told her once, five years prior that descendants of Raithwall controlled their own thoughts and feelings and destinies. That's why they were trying to "persuade" her to begin with; they couldn't make her. Still, it could've been a lie, and it wasn't a risk she wanted to take.

"I will not become the Dynast-Queen."

"Not even for this Hume?"

Her uncle's shiny eyes worked they're way from the God to her. She opened her mouth, and then closed it. His life was in her hands. Uncle Ha'li would either live or die. She tried her best, but she couldn't hold the High Being's stare. She looked down.

He didn't look fearful for his life, or angry at her hesitation, but curios and kind. There was some kind of awareness in his foggy gaze, some far away understanding. A similar memory, perhaps.

And then Ashe suddenly remembered the day her mother died.

--

_A six-year-old Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca watches the polished doors of the Royal Mausoleum close and understands that she'll never see her mother again. She just doesn't know why. Everyone begins to walk back towards the castle, her father and Uncle Ha'li a little bit a head of her. Her black dress and veil are heavy for her little form and she struggles along on the path for a few moments before giving up. She turns to Vossler and reaches her hands up._

_He picks her up and carries all the way into the Western Grand Hall. Once inside, he sets her done on the thick carpet and she takes his hand, pulling him towards her father because she has a question that needs an answer._

_But when her father catches sight of her, he disappears from sight, down one of the corridors she's not allowed into. Vossler gently leads her away, despite her huffing. Uncle Ha'li appears beside her._

"_Your father needs some time alone, _mia ceita_." He takes her other hand and she lets go of Vossler's, though he remains near. "But I need consoling. Stay with me?" His smile is kind and reassuring and little Ashe knows she's going to be distracted from her situation at hand. She thinks it's best to ask now before she forgets._

"_The kingdom past the Jagd, C'mantra? They said they could save my momm—mother," she corrected herself. "Why did father not agree?"_

_Uncle Ha'li lifts little Ashe high into the air and brings her to his side, holding her close. "I do not want you to think that your _amba _was not important to your_ baba. _Do you understand that?" He looks dead in the eye as he always does, makes her feel like he really cares what she has to say. She nods._

"_Mother was important to Father."_

"_And still is," he adds. "But, _mia ceita_, you must understand this; to be a good ruler, your country and kingdom come first." He stares out over the railings that she usually couldn't see over because they're so high, but has easy access in his arms. "No one person is worth a kingdom."_

_The veil slides from her head and she has to lean far out of his arms to catch it. "They asked for our kingdom?" She's reaching for the slow moving black lace and begins to fall out of his grasp. Vossler supports her as she struggles to regain balance. Uncle Ha'li doesn't seem to notice._

"Haa..._Among other things, yes."_

_Vossler pushes her up completely and she thanks him, trying to put the mourning headdress back on. "Why? Why not just save Mother?"_

_He chuckles and pats her head, sending the veil away again. If little Ashe knew the term "dammit" she would use. Instead, she gives a small gasp of frustration as it flutters to the floor and she glares at Vossler for not catching it. He smiles and reaches for it as she turns back to her uncle._

"_Mother's not worth the kingdom?"_

"_Not one person is worth a kingdom or anyone it."_

--

Ashe knew that he was recalling the same memory she was and there were hot tears on her face because she knew her answer and so did he. He didn't look upset, though, completely proud. He was encouraging her to seal his fate.

"No, not even this Hume."

With that, he was gone. His breath didn't even hitch and his eyes didn't close. He just stopped. She couldn't keep herself up, her knees buckled, and the moment the Mist receded from his corpse she grabbed at the sheets about his still chest and let out a painful sob. Something hurt, angry, betrayed. Something deep. The sound of anguish she swallowed with her father and Rasler.

The Occurian circled around the bed to her side and stopped behind her. "He can be brought back."

"Not one person is worth a kingdom and all those inside it," she breathed through angry chokes of air. It's hard to say if she spoke to the God or to herself. Both would be correct.

"One is not enough?"

Ashe's face was buried into the bedding, dry sobs muffling all noise as she weakly pulled and kneaded the sheets in frustration. Perhaps that's why she didn't answer and it took her a moment to realize what the God was implying. She pulled away from the body.

"No, I—"

"Then more than one."

"Stop!"

But it was gone. Vanished, cold Mist residue slowly floating to floor. The sudden sadness was gone, and Ashe was scared all over again.

--

Not too long after her uncle's body was examined and preparations began being lain for the funeral, a terrified City _Parijanah_ came running to the entrance and was restrained by guards. Ashe waved them away and him through and he fell into the room, so shaken he crawled to her. She dropped to her knees and he grabbed at her arms. His grip was tight, but his fear tighter.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

His eyes bared too much white as he rasped, "The Sand Sea… coming from the Sand Sea is a Hurricane!"

* * *

**Author's Note: I was really torn about doing this. It's just that no other character came to mind when it came to this particular role in the story. Once I decided to do it, it was equally hard to decide _when_ to do it. I figured I'd best do early on before I have time to loose my nerve and change my mind. For those of you curious about the other character's showing up, Basch will be back next chapter and probably Vaan and Penelo, too. **

**R&R please, commentary is crazy requested for this project.**


	3. Meeting

**Author's Note: All those confused on Ieeha... see second Author's Note**

**Chapter Rating: Kplus  
Chapter Summary: There's more than Dalmasca at stake. Ashe will need help from all of those places if she hopes to succeed.  
**

* * *

**Long Live the Queen**  
Chapter Three: Meeting  
_By: Mazzie May_

Headache. Annoyance. Pain. Bother. Nuisance.

Choose anyone you like, Ashe would easily apply it to Vaan. As soon as word(s?) hit the pirate grape vine of the hurricane from the Sand Sea, Penelo contacted Larsa. Bless the Emperor, he did not keep things from the girl and informed her of the recent Occurian "influence". Vaan'd been demanding an audience with her for the past two days because of it.

She sat at the head of a long table, the new Marquis to her right, standing, barking orders to everyone who came near. Well, he wasn't really _new_, but he wasn't Halim. He was a mammoth of a man; part Viera, he was beyond tall, off-white hair tied back in a tight braid that whipped about as he moved. His skin was dark, but not as dark as Fran's and he retained only Hume features—no long ears or pointed feet—his eyes were a disturbingly light gray. He was solid, though, thick; Ashe had only ever seen his size clothing of large Seeq and it still strained against him as he waved his arms about, speaking with his hands.

He'd make a fine Marquis, to be sure. A little emotional, she notes, his face red with anger. It's to be expected, what with Halim's will. _It couldn't be current, there's no way_.

Halim Ondore the fourth left everything—including country—to Ashe.

Obviously, that was an old, old will and no one had been informed of a new one. She'd quickly and quietly passed everything back to the recently appointed Marquis Leighn Ikkas, because Ashe wasn't even going to pretend she was capable of managing the floating city. Perhaps she'd done it too quietly, for every instruction he gave, they looked to her for confirmation, which is what led to his harsh orders; no one needed to be told twice in that tone.

Ikkas slammed his large hands onto the table and she jumped. "It's all settled," he huffed, still red in the face, ears and down his neck. "They'll all be here soon." She nodded in acknowledgement, never taking her eyes from the table, determined not to make a noise. If he turned his temper towards her, Ashe would be hard pressed not to shrink and quiver teary-eyed beneath him.

Perhaps he took her silence as a request to be alone. Ikkas nodded to Basch who stood rigid on her left before excusing himself. She heard him holler again before the doors closed.

As she relaxed into the chair a little, he removed his helmet, saying, "Vaan wants to speak with you." She sighed, flicking one of several bracelets on her wrist. The set was a Crystmas gift from Balthier. She always wore them with her white dresses. They made soft _ting _sounds, much like chimes. They were fine silver with a ribbon of opal glittering in a thin, wavy line along the center of each. Five in all, Ashe treasured them.

"You want me to meet with him." She made it a statement instead of a question. _Ting, ting_. She heard him shift and his helmet appeared in her peripheral vision as he set it on the table.

"Yes," he said. _Ting_. "I do."

_Ting, ting, ting._ "Why?"

"If you're truly going through with your plan, he deserves to know."

Her fingers stilled. She stared into her mahogany reflection as a stray curl escaped from behind her ear. "He deserves to know." She pulled the wide sleeve over the bracelets, hiding them from view. "Why?"

"Highness, please." He moved around the side of the chair and dropped to one knee. She had to fight not to turn to him. "Think of what you're doing, what you plan on telling the leaders of Ivalice." She closed her eyes, trying _not _to think of the meeting that would soon take place.

Once the hurricane had been confirmed, she'd had not time to grieve for her deceased uncle and felt herself completely lost. All she could think was that the Occurian's had gone too far and, with the support or Ikkas, she made a firm promise. She then asked Ikkas to summon all the major leaders of Ivalice. Larsa had sent Basch in his place for obvious reasons, Al-Cid would represent his father, an Acolyte for the Gran Kilitias, but to Ashe's and everyone else's surprise, Jote would not send a representative. She would come herself. _Tension in the room will be something thick_, Ikkas had remarked at the news.

"What of it?" Her eyes remained closed.

He didn't answer for a long while and Ashe thought she might've discouraged him. But finally he responded with a stressing tone no one had taken with her in a long time as he placed a heavily gloved hand on her arm. "You are going to need more than military support." Slowly, Ashe rested her hand over his. He continued. "This will be beyond physically taxing. If your last encounters with the Gods have taught us anything, they will drain you emotionally, as well." She felt his eyes fall away from her face. "You will need the moral support."

Her eyes snapped open. "Moral support?" She looked down at her table-top reflection. "From them? How insulting!" she sneered down to her lightly blurred features. "To show them that their efforts were a waste because the girl tossed atop a throne is not fit less she has people holding her hand. And not just any people! _Pirates and children!_" Her small laugh was mocking spiteful reflection. "I shan't turn to them for moral support…" She turned to him suddenly. "Or will you support me, _Gabranth_?"

Basch withdrew his hand from her arm, face blank, but with sad eyes. The flame of self-loathing receded immediately and she felt small and foolish. "Basch, I'm sorry, I'm mad at myself, not you, I—"

He stood and grabbed his helmet. "It's I whom should ask forgiveness. I overstepped my bounds." He stepped away from her, locking the helmet back in place and Ashe hated herself just a little bit more. Whatever kind of friendship they might have, rank always came first. And of course, the one time he doesn't bring rank up, she tosses it back at him…

"I meant what I said, about showing them how I've wasted their time." She placed her hand over hidden bracelets and squeezed. "I don't want any of them to see me." She began rotating the silver hoops beneath the sleeve in a back and forth motion. "Sometimes I think I'm not worthy of their audience. Such courage…"

"When the council room is full, you will display yours."

She quietly scoffed. "My courage, or foolishness."

"That line is frustratingly thin," he added, sounding as though such a thought had bothered him a time ago. She smiled; at least she wasn't the only one who thought so.

The silence that followed wasn't comfortable, but not insufferable. Ashe went back to playing with her bracelets, waiting. Al-Cid was the first to arrive. Both he and she had been served lunch (Basch refused to eat in front her) and dinner was on the way before the Acolyte arrived. There were two hard knocks and the door swung open.

"Oh!" Ashe breathed in surprise. Al-Cid raised his brows in question as he sipped his wine. The Acolyte smiled and bowed. "Ieeha! How good to see you again!"

"I'm honoured Queen Dalmasca remembers me," he replies standing straight again. Ashe stood and moved away from the chair, walking past a few seats to where he stood. She folded her arms beneath her breasts.

"How could I forget Fafnir and all those involved?"

Ieeha placed a hand over his arm, blushing a little. "Yes… that was a… unique moment."

"You've healed well?"

He shook his head a little. "Unfortunately, no. My arm's not what it used to be. I had to abandon the Holy Warrior training."

Her expression softened. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Again, Ieeha smiled, shrugging. "I'm an Acolyte now, I believe it more of an opportunity than a sacrifice."

Ashe tapped her lips, unable to avoid asking, "And Rejn?"

The blush was back in full and she almost felt bad for asking. "Rejn's well. Very well." Something about his smile, his tone… Ashe dropped her arms to her side. It just seemed strange, off.

"I thought Acolytes were to be celibate," Al-Cid wondered aloud from his chair. Ashe spun about to gape at him, her face wearing a look of total disbelief at his bluntness. Basch cleared his throat and shifted as Ieeha coughed in surprise and crossed his arms, the blush so red it appeared purple.

"Prince Rozzaria!" Ashe scolded. "How dare you!" She placed her hands on her hips. "To suggest such a thing! That's just, just—"

"The truth?" He questioned, setting down his goblet, and leaning back in his tall chair, his arms atop the rests. "Did you not see his eyes shift to the left? Or the twitch at the corners of his mouth?" He smiled a little slyly as her arms rose from her hips, one hand to cup her chin, the other to support that elbow. Her thinking position.

"Trust me, Princess. He is bedding this 'Rejn', to be sure."

She snapped her eyes back to him. "I am queen."

He smiled, teasingly. "You will always be a princess to me."

Ignoring him, she reared around to Ieeha. He looked a little ill. "Oh, please, sit…" He nodded his thanks and took the offer. She called for water, and as poor, embarrassed Ieeha drank it as politely as he could, Ashe patted his shoulder before walking back to her seat and scowled at Al-Cid. He merely smiled pleasantly back.

Ashe made it a point to keep the small conversations that began afterwards to be completely politic-based to spare everyone something embarrassing. Somehow, though, Al-Cid managed to get a few comments in. Ashe had a feeling that Basch had a rather large smile on beneath his helmet and it irritated her.

Finally, as the sun began its decent, Jote appeared. There was no knock, the doors just swung open slowly. Despite the announcement that Jote would be coming herself, Ashe believed everyone still had a feeling someone else would represent her. And yet, there she stood, exactly the same as before, from the curl in her hair to the air of contempt and superiority. Ikkas stood behind her.

No one said a word (though Ieeha did stand to bow, a gesture she ignored) as she walked all the way to the other end of the long table and sat exactly opposite of Ashe. Ikkas took the empty seat in between Ashe and Al-Cid.

Al-Cid was the first to speak. "I thought Viera were not to leave the Wood. That it was treason." His words were not teasing or spiteful. Only curious. Something Ashe was thankful for.

Jote looked him in the eye, head held high and proud as always. Her long nails tapped against her broach. "This stone is made of Dew Drop Pebbles."

Ashe tilted her head, confused. She thought that the pebbles disappeared when one took them out of the village. Or so Mjrn had said. Jote seemed to read her expression. "The Wood has blessed this stone to show Her support for you, Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca." Again, Ashe looked on, questioningly. "You who brought us our sisters back, one only for a brief time, the other for her life. She repays you for this." She nodded once, deep enough to be a bow. "But, when the stone begins to fade…" She laced her long fingers. "I have been gone for too long."

Ashe and Ieeha stared politely in quiet wonder at the transparent but dark maroon stone. Al-Cid nodded his appreciation to her explanation, and went back to his wine. Jote allowed the curious looks for a short time before "suggesting" that Ashe explain why she was called from her Wood.

Ashe nodded in acknowledgement, careful not to make it seem like an apology. As much as she respected Jote, she would not allow herself to appear as an equal or superior. An equal would insult her and to boast superiority would only upset her further. Ashe would keep the line between them gray, allowing them to view each other as they wanted. Standing, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it slowly.

When she opened them, Ieeha sat straight, ink pen in a hand that was resting on paper. He was to record everything for the Grand Kilitias. Al-Cid was up against the table; his elbow propped up, goblet dangling from his fingertips, his cheek against the back of his hand. He looked a little expecting, though his eyes were clear and focused. Across the way, Jote sat with her back against the chair, long fingers entwined, appearing ill-amused. Her small smile was not a happy one.

_Go on, _Ashe encouraged herself. _You can say it._

"You are all aware of the unfortunate events that have taken place in the last few months. Most recent of the catastrophes, the Sand Sea Hurricane." Ieeha scribbled away, Al-Cid drank, Jote tilted her eyed in disbelief.

"You did not seek my audience to tell me of things I already am knowing of?"

Ashe held up her hand to dismiss the thought. "No, no. I wouldn't waste your time so." The remark was biting and meant to be so. Ieeha had stopped writing, probably deciding whether or not to include that last bit. Basch shifted behind her and Jote glared, though the angry look did hold respect.

"I am going to do something about it."

That got all of their attention. Ikkas silent encouraged her as Al-Cid set down his drink and Ieeha sat waiting. Jote simply raised a brow.

"I am going to wage war with the Gods. I asked you here for assistance."

Iheea's pen slid out of his hand and smacked onto the paper, ink slowly leaking out. Al-Cid froze, his eyes wide in surprise. Jote's mouth hung open, just a little, but wide enough that Ashe couldn't see teeth, and she was sure that was the most shocked Jote had ever been in her entire life—however long it was.

A beat went by and Ieeha let out a nervous laugh. Al-Cid smoothed his shirt as Jote pushed away from the table, heading for the door.

"Wait, Jote?"

The Viera Elder did not turn around, though she did stop. "I will have no part in a scheme against Gods."

Ashe moved around the table a little, closer to Ieeha. "Places I must go to, the Mist will be there. I will need someone who can sense it—"

At this, Jote reared around. "I will not subject my Viera to such pain!" Her face was twisted in controlled fury and Ashe was struck with the image of Fran on the _Leviathan_. Jote rotated her head a little to the right. "Besides," she breathed. "None of my Wood dwelling sisters could stand such a strong Mist. You'd have to find a traitor whose sense have dulled."

Ashe knew the answer, but had to ask. "Who?"

Jote's appeared to calming down as she turned away and the guards opened the doors. "I would suggest my fallen sister." She left the room. As the heavy doors began to swing closed, Jote turned around and looked Ashe in the eyes. "She is the only one who would consider such damnation only another dawn to dusk."

"That went better than I predicted," Ikkas muttered, looking at Basch. He nodded back, keeping his eyes on Ashe.

"I assume you seek Rozzaria's army." Ashe turned to look at Al-Cid and noticed that his wine was all gone, despite having been near full moments before. He waved a servant to the empty silver.

"Please."

He lifted the again full goblet. "I shall speak with my father." And he downed it once more.

She looked down to Ieeha was holding up better than she'd expected. "And from his Holiness?"

"Only moral support and spiritual consent. He serves the Gods, after all." Ieeha made a note of it before standing and excusing himself.

Ashe, surprised by his haste, touched his arm. "You will not stay and rest before your long trip back?"

He shook his head, gathering all the paper. "I cannot. The Grand Kilitias may require much time to think on this matter. The sooner he is made aware of it the better."

Ashe nodded mutely as he headed for the once again open doors.

"Tell your 'Rejn' she is wonderful for tempting a holy man," Al-Cid called. Ieeha's ears turned red as he made a weak promise to do so.

The guards began to close the doors again, but Ikkas waved them off making his way for them himself, saying to leave them open, Al-Cid following behind him. He laid one of his large, impressive hands on her shoulder and gave what she was sure meant to be a gentle squeeze. "You did fine, Highness. Your Uncle would be proud."

She smiled her thanks, silently adding, _though my father wouldn't be_. He made his loud exit, barking orders the moment he stepped outside. Al-Cid bowed and smiled before disappearing as well. Soon after, the guards excused themselves.

With a sigh, Ashe hid her face in her hands for a moment, breathing. "Basch," she called, her words coming out muffled. He turned to her, removing the helmet.

"Highness?"

She exhaled slowly, dropping her hands enough to look at his eyes.

"I will meet with Vaan."**  
**

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**Author's Note: Okay, first, Ieeha. When I defeated Fafnir, I went back to Rejn, and Ieeha was there with his arm in a sling and Rejn made some comment about not all Humes being cowards, and earning respect and she decided to stay and help out. Pinoko was awesome and Beta'd this for me and brought to my attention that when she killed Fafnir, she found Ieeha's Ring, returned it to Rejn and she said something about life and then decided to help out. I'd like to say I had no idea that post-hunts events differed. I do not know why we got seperate events. The only thing we could come up with is that when I took the hunt from Rejn, I went it did it as soon as I could; if Fafnir didn't show up, I'd reset and try agian and she took the hunt and then messed about. Maybe it's time based. I do not know and I apologize for any and all confusion. My bad.**

**R&R Please, all comentary appreciated.**


	4. Proposal

**Author's Note: I owe people apologies. See second Author's Note.**

**Story Rating: T  
Chapter Rating: T for 'implied situations'  
Chapter Summary: When one faces the Gods, one faces death. Ashe can't leave Dalmasca with no ruler.  
**

* * *

**Long Live the Queen**  
Chapter Four: Proposal  
_By: Mazzie May_

After the queen agreed to meet with Vaan, Basch left to send private word for him. Ashe trailed her middle finger back and fourth along the table, making smudge marks in the shine. It made her think of her life. It was so polished and rich before. Now it was all marked up and ruined.

She took the time to finally look around the room. The table was long and sat twelve; five on both sides, with a chair at each end. The walls were dark gray rock, decorated with long, nearly floor to ceiling, lightly tinted blue windows. The floor was large tiles of shale, the rock layers smooth but evident and Ashe wondered how she never tripped.

She was only alone for a few minutes before Al-Cid came back into the room.

He came through the door quickly, but casually, in almost long strides. "Tell me, Princess, what is so secretive that it must wait for us to be alone?"

"I am queen," she replied off-hand, making a smiley face with her fingerprints.

"To me, you will always be a princess." She could hear the smile in his voice as he came further into the room. She slowly turned away from her 'art' and placed both hands on the edge the table as she glared a little at him.

"Yes, yes. Tell me—what's that stone there?" She pointed to the sparkling gem at the end of the cane he'd returned with, his long black traveling coat drabbed over his arm.

"This?" He leaned the end with the stone towards her. "Sianne."

She stared down at it in wonder, lips parted in awe. "Cyan? Like the colour?"

"No, Sianne as in this stone." He twirled the cane, the colour in the stone moving like ink. "It's the purest mineral in Rozzaria and my family's royal crest is made of it."

"Oh…" The cane looked a little heavy, probably made of some kind of metal, but it was painted with shiny black lacquer. The stone itself was a bright, bright cerulean like the waters at Phone Coast, but not at all transparent. It seemed to have a thick, silvery undertone that moved and swirled hypnotically within the blue. Ashe couldn't think of a word that did it justice and settled for gorgeous.

Al-Cid watched her for a moment. "Do not tell me you asked me to come back just to speak of shiny rocks?"

She snapped out of the trance and leaned away, looking irritated. "Of course not." She turned back to the table. Her eyes easily found the smears she'd made before. "I have a favor to ask you."

There was a small _tak_ sound and she figured he was using the cane for support as he leaned. Whenever she saw him, his right hand's fingers seemed to twitch and he was always tilting a little to the right. In Rozzaria, he probably used the lovely thing all the time. "I already told you I would speak with my father."

"It's not a favor of Rozzaria." She traced the marks, knowing she wasn't making a mistake but still feeling cheated. "It's a favor of you."

Ashe couldn't see his face, and the silence from him was a little unnerving. Finally, with a soft rustle and a light _clack,_ he set his coat and cane onto the table, and leaned against it, crossing his arms, looking at her. "I am listening."

"I… I worry for Dalmasca." Next to the smiley face, she made a frowning one.

He watched her fingers, though at his angle with the sunlight to his back, he couldn't see the images she was making. "Understandably so."

She sighed, rubbing her index finger back and forth quickly, smudging out the smiley. "Please. Mocking is unnecessary right now."

"I am not mocking, Princess."

Ashe shot him a look. "I am queen."

"You will always be a princess to me," Al-Cid said with no smile and turned his head to look out the doors and down the hall, staring off somewhere. "Dalmasca's state is worrisome for many reasons. Should you defeat the Gods, that will only remove the possibility of more pressing issues. The previous ordeals will still be about."

The smiley was gone and above the frowning face, she made an 'A'."I know this."

"You must," he laughed a little, looking back at her, smiling, his gaze soft. "I do not believe you even realize how tired you appear."

'S' next to the 'A', after that, an 'H'…"I'm sure I look most attractive." The sarcasm made Al-Cid scoff and mock-scowl.

"Just because the gold needs to be shined does not mean it is no longer gold."

Ashe smiled at his words as she finished the 'E'. "That's kind, I promise." She pulled her hand away, and her bracelets clinked. "But you may make me blush another time."

He rolled his eyes, the little mischievous smirk back. "Is that not what this is about?"

She turned the upper half of her body towards him, most confused. "Huh?" He was looking at her with knowing eyes, as if he'd already deduced the reason for the personal meeting. It unnerved her, and she bit her lower lip a little.

"Such a secretive meeting, you complain of stress and you seek my favor?" Al-Cid spread his arms out slowly, before dropping his hands back to the edge of the table. "Really, you mustn't try so hard." The knowing look became a little darker and heated. "I will gladly "relieve" your stress," he finished, moving so close Ashe had to take a step back.

Realization of his words was like a slap in the face after being splashed with cold water. "Oh, no! Al-Cid, that's not--" She took steps back as he took another forward and she felt herself against the chair Ieeha had been using. She almost fell into it.

He reached out, steadying her. His smile was kind and she couldn't fathom how someone who misunderstood so much could look so understanding. "I do not mind."

"I—wait!" Her voice was high and little shaky but she was surprised, dammit!

"I'm sure you're nervous."

"Will you—" she stopped trying to move away from him. She looked up at him, suspicious. Just what was he implying? "What do you mean, nervous?"

Al-Cid shrugged, his hands still on her arms. "Lord Rasler wasn't Prince Dalmasca for long. I only assume your relationship had not…" He stopped, searching for a word. "…evolved to that level of intimacy."

Her jaw dropped as she gasped, snapping, "Yes. We… evolved, thank you."

His eyebrows rose in polite surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, really." She sounded like a child and had to fight not to cross her arms. He seemed to eye her for a moment as though he didn't believe her. She crossed her arms anyway, taking great offense. "Oh! Honestly. I'll have you know we evolved several times!"

He smirked, crossing his own arms as he backed away, leaning his hip against the table. "How many times?"

Angry and surprised. That's all Ashe was going to be for the next little while, she was convinced. She shook her head as she stuttered. "Th-that-that is so none of your concern!"

He leaned his head to the right. "I ask because you sound as though you are fibbing." It got the reaction he wanted.

She uncrossed her arms and raised her force, taking a step towards him. "How dare you accuse me of lying!"

"How many?"

"Six times!"

Her hands flew over her mouth as the words echoed in the stone room. Both of their eyes were wide in surprise as she took her step back and faced the table, staring down at the little sad face with her name. She closed her eyes, wanting to blur herself out.

A low whistle came from her left. "He was only Dalmascan prince for a week…" It sounded more like thinking out loud than a comment actually directed at her, but it was embarrassing all the same. She thought her hair would catch fire, her face was burning so much. Ashe winced as he mumbled, "that's quite impressive."

"Do you want to be King Dalmasca or not?"

The question hung in the air and Al-Cid was looking back down the hall.

"When was the last time you 'evolved'?"

She groaned in annoyance and embarrassment, dropping her hands to her neck and almost snarling, "Dammit, Rozarria, will you—"

"This is important," he Al-Cid interrupted her, still staring out the doors. "If you're with another's child, then I will decline."

Her fists relaxed and her arms fell to the table. Her eyes narrowed in a curious way. "What makes you ask that?"

"When royal—or any noble, really--women come to be with child outside of wedlock," he explained, making a small horizontal waving gesture with his hand. "They tend to make haste with marriage so none are aware of the time lapse. That it is perfectly possible that the bastard child belongs to that husband."

Ashe thought on it a moment and nodded to herself. "I understand, but I am with no one's child."

He looked back to her. "You are sure?"

She nodded once, giving him a firm, "Positive."

He nodded back and she saw that he believed her, but was waiting for reassurance. The blush started to return, the prickling fleeing beginning slowly. "The last time I… 'evolved' with someone was almost three years ago."

Ashe had seen many surprised expressions the last few days, but she hadn't seen a mortified one. "Three years?" His tone was of absolute disbelief and he seemed a little paler. She was worried he might faint.

"What? What's wrong with three years?" The look Al-Cid gave her as he regained his composure made the red, burning feeling spread down her neck and she wanted to remove her high collar. She glared off to the side, knowing she wasn't going to win _that_ particular argument. Ashe knew what she was missing. "…Fine, I'll give you that," she grumbled. "But I've had so much to do!" she tried, her arms a little out, palms up. "Dalmasca needs my time more than my bed does."

Al-Cid snorted, in obvious disagreement. He shook his head with a sigh. "Oh, my princess, you must learn to enjoy the… _perks_ of royalty."

"I am queen, and I think a 'perk' of royalty is using one's power to help others." She nodded once, as to be sure and folded her arms.

He scoffed, though it was with a smile. "Mm. Who was he?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Three years ago, when you were taken to bed." He gestured away at 'taken'. "Who was he?"

Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Something in her chest constricted and she turned around, facing the hallway, biting her lip. "…It doesn't matter."

"I think it does."

"Why?" Her voice was small and she didn't want to talk about it.

"Once we are wed, will I be competing with a secret lover?" It wasn't an actual question, he was making fun of her.

"No!" she snapped. How dare he accuse her? If that wasn't the pot calling the kettle black…

Al-Cid sighed next to her. "How am I to be sure unless I know who he is?"

"I said it doesn't matter and I mean it. Nothing became of it." The constricting feeling was absolutely binding, like a white-hot chain was being wound around her ribs, being pulled right. She gripped the bracelets tightly and felt like crying. "Nothing can ever become of it."

"Is this so?"

"Yes." It came out in what was almost a shudder. Scared he might pry, she turned to her failsafe: Anger. She turned towards him, scowling, hoping the red in her face would help the image. "And you are one of the last people I want to hear warnings of lechery from!"

Al-Cid laughed in surprise. It was loud and sophisticated and contagious. She smiled a little. "Oh, my," he breathed, grinning widely. "Do you question my loyalty?"

She shot him her own look and he laughed some more. Ashe held up her hand to get his attention. "I say this; you are allowed one mistress at a time, and only one." Her index finger extended to represent one. "I am to meet and approve of her and she will have to under-go a full medical examination."

Al-Cid's humorous expression turned sour as he protested. "As though I would be with damaged--"

"But!" she cut him off, her hand up and open in a 'stop' gestured. "That is after our first son is born. I want to insure a Dalmascan heir before you run about." The smile was back on his dark features. "Your mistress will live in the castle and any children you have with her will be well cared for and educated. Should you change your mistress, the previous must leave. Unless she bore you a child. Then she will be moved to the guest tower."

His face was that of mock-surprise, though the image was ruined with the smile. "How can so much freedom have so many rules?"

She smiled back. "I just want to avoid a scandal…" She looked up at the glowing crystal chandelier. "Some woman ranting outside the gates that she had your illegitimate child…" She shook the image from her mind, quoting Vaan. "No thank you to that."

Al-Cid nodded. "Agreed, although…" The smile shifted to something a little more intimate and she could just imagine the slight pink to her cheeks. "To have such a plan… You must have been considering me for sometime, Princess."

"I am queen." She squirmed a little. "I have been thinking on it, yes."

He tilted his head in mild acknowledgement. "Fair enough."

Ashe turned to him, unable to hide the desperation in her tone as she asked, "What say you?"

"Call me traditional, my princess, but please, allow me." Al-Cid reached out and took her right hand, gently brushing his lips against her skin. "Queen Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca, will you permit I, Al-Cid Margrace Rozzaria," at his name, he bowed in the traditional Rozzarian way. "To take up royalty that which was lost?"

Ashe knew how a proper, royal proposal went. Her body turned, the tip of her left boot touching the gray-layered stones of the floor. Her left hand hovered above her chest, her ring and middle fingers lightly touching her skin. "What royalty do you replace?"

He sought her eyes. "King."

She met his gaze. "I permit." The next part involved him giving her ring, but seeing as how he didn't have one, he simply let go of her hand. Ashe let out a sigh of relief and fell into Ieeha's seat.

Al-Cid watched her. "Feel better?"

Her eyes were closed as she breathed. "Thank you."

"You have not seen me rule," he joked, reaching for her coat. "Do not thank me yet."

She laughed. "Oh, do not make me regret."

"I will try not to disappoint," he returned, smiling. He swung the black coat behind him so it rested on his shoulders. "Starting by informing my parents."

Her eyes were still closed. She felt so drained now. Not in a bad way. The sake of Dalmasca had tangled itself up in her emotions. Now that she knew it was safe, it all untwined and fell away. "What will I do?"

"Pick a colour and a dress," Addressing her country went without saying. He slid one sleeve on… "I will arrange the everything else." And then the other.

Ashe finally opened her eyes. She moved her head, tilting it back to look up at him. "Red and I'll shop for a dress after meeting Vaan and the others."

"Arcadian colours for a Dalmascan wedding?" As he straightened his sleeves and began to lace the deep and dark blue cord across to the other side to close the coat, Ashe wondered why she hadn't come to this conclusion sooner. Seemed so obvious, now.

She stared up at him, her closed lip smile teasing. "Would you rather I wear a yellow gown?" He scoffed a quiet "of course not" and she settled deeper into the chair. "Besides, I cannot wear white, I've… 'evolved'."

He made a small, "ah" sound as he finished lacing. He grabbed the cane, saying, "An off white, then, everything else can be red."

"As long as I have a red wedding."

"Are you sure you would not rather wed Emperor Solidor?" She have him a half-lidded glare. He came next to her. "See you in Rozzaria, Princess," he said before placing one hand on the arm of the chair, the other at the top, twisting it so it faced him, not the table, and leaned down. He paused for a very short moment, a way to say, 'hey, stop me if you want', but Ashe made no protest.

The kiss was like most first kisses between couples; closed mouth, but parted lips. It wasn't long and it wasn't necessarily slow. They both knew had to kiss, no need to dumb it down. There were no fireworks, no images of eternity, no sudden realization of a secret love. Hell, their eyes weren't even closed all the way. It was a totally dry kiss, physically and metaphorically.

"I am queen…" She said to him as he pulled away slightly. She suspected his usual response, but before he got anything out, a guard appeared just outside the door, sweating and red in the face.

"Your guests are here, Your Highness," he wheezed.

Al-Cid and Ashe shared a look of confusion and mild amusement and then stared at him strangely. "You didn't have to run to inform me."

He shook his head, still huffing. "Marquis insisted…" The obviously out of shape solider leaned forward, one hand on his knee, the other still holding the spear erect. Al-Cid shifted his eyes back to her and she only blinked and shrugged.

Farther down the hall came shouts.

"He ran this way!"

"Vaan, come back!!"

Not a moment later Vaan barreled into the room and skidded to a stop. "Ashe, Ashe hey—"

Penelo followed soon after that, sort of hopping to a stop. "Vaan, you can't just—" She stopped, and swallowed when she looked over at Ashe and Al-Cid. "Oh…"

"What the hell's going on in here?" Vaan asked quickly, looking little bit angry and definitely suspicious, pointing towards Ashe. It was only then she realized Al-Cid was still almost on top of her.

Al-Cid pulled away and straightened, fixing his coat and smiling suggestively at them, forcing their faces to go red at the thought of what they might've interrupted. Ashe leaned forward in the tall chair, resting all her upper weight on her arms, which were now folded over the armrest of the chair. Her legs crossed, her knee was touching Al-Cid's leg. Despite the chaos that was sure to ensue, all she could think was, _Vaan has a ponytail?_

* * *

**Author's Note: Sincerest apologies to Larsa Solidor and TheDonutMistress. The former I told I'd be posting this last night (12/29/06) and I didn't do it. Also, when I wrote the date, I think I typed twenty-six instead of twenty-nine. Sure that was not helpful. And to the latter because I promised I'd post this first thing in the morning and instead I've been watching Saturday Morning cartoons. "Xiaolin Showdown" is _awesome_. Go watch and be happy. On ward!  
Next chapter is Vaan and Penelo centric. I'll probably post it this weekend as a New Years thing. All the other mega multichapter author's are doing it...**

**R&R please, any and all commentary appreciated._  
_**


	5. A Rift

**Author's Note: New Year's weekend my ass. I can't keep promises for crap.**

**Story Rating: T  
Chatper Rating: T for cursing  
Summary: Whoever said "Time heals all wounds" should be punished slowly. And Vaan volunteers for it. **

* * *

**Long Live the Queen**  
Chapter Five: A Rift_  
By: Mazzie May_

Al-Cid took his leave with smug silence and careful strides, using the cane tastefully.

Ashe rubbed her temple as she uncrossed her legs and waved the guard out of the room. He continued to breathe heavily as he bowed and followed the prince. As the doors closed, she waited for an outburst…

…that never came. Oh, Vaan looked annoyed, yes, and Penelo blinked innocently at Ashe, but neither of them said anything. They seemed to be taking her in, seeing how much had of her had changed. Ashe did the same.

Penelo hadn't grown an inch. She was still small and not-too-thin. She'd grown her bangs to her eyes brows (_thank goodness_, Ashe's mind whispered), and the rest was pulled back into a rather high ponytail, the hair spiking out. It must have been shorter than it was before. What was most interesting about her hair was the… four? No, five braids along the scalp. They were evenly spaced; one right above each ear, one right down the middle and the other two in between those. The rows disappeared into the rest of hair at the elastic band.

Her shirt was white, tight and tiny. A long, wide collar, it revealed a lot of her shoulders and the end of the clingy material reached _just_ past what Ashe presumed to be the outline of an uplifting bra. She couldn't tell how long the sleeves where, they disappeared into black friction resisters that reached from almost the armpit to a little past the wrists. Ashe recognized it as the material knights wore underneath their arm to keep from blistering, but it looked nice on Penelo, anyway. Her pants were low (Ashe could see her pelvis line) and tight, as well, hugging her legs until the knee, where the pant legs belled out a bit. They ended where the knee became shin. A pretty dark blue made of something tougher than denim, but more functional than leather. Ashe couldn't place it. The belt that Vaan had been wearing when they fought beside Ashe all those years ago was now around Penelo's hips, swaying and clinking with the lightest of movements, a pair of brown gloves tucked in between, the feathers that were once tucked into her hair were sown to the them. A small, box-like pouch was tied to her right leg. Her boots were black and a little plain and just as flat as before, but nowhere near as tall. They stopped after her ankles.

Ashe dragged her eyes to Vaan. He'd ditched all that metal, God bless. His boots were black and treaded, but that was all she could tell. They disappeared into straight-legged pants, made out of whatever material Penelo's were. It looked as though they started out the same dark blue but had faded a little bit. Several black and brown holsters were strapped to his legs. Ashe recalled during her resistance days that ones like Vaan's held knives and other various sharp objects. The large metal and turquoise craftsmanship that had acted as a clasp on his vest all those years ago was now a part of a belt made of either smooth metal or tarnished silver. The ornament hung off and to the right, another pair of brown gloves stored away there. His shirt was forming, but still loose, probably giving him easy movement. It was short sleeved and the friction resisters he wore only reached from his wrists to before the elbow. On his neck were a couple of cord necklaces with a single stone on each.

His hair had been a barely blonde before and was now white. Sun bleached, probably. And long. Down, it must've reached just past his shoulders. It was pulled back in a messy ponytail, bangs and little stubborn strands still out. Knowing Vaan, it wasn't a fashion statement. It was more likely he kept forgetting to do something about it.

"Ashe!" Penelo cried excitedly. She began moving towards her and Ashe pushed away from the chair smiling, extending her arms out. Penelo skipped into the hug and Ashe wrapped her arms around her, feeling the firmness of the girl's muscles, the healing calluses on her hands and fingertips a little rough on Ashe's back. As they pulled away and Penelo smiled, Ashe noticed that although the smile was sweet, it was little duller. As she smiled back, Ashe froze as she looked into Penelo's eyes. The left eye had small red marks on either side, in a slash shape, and was a little foggy, sort of film covered. Partially blind.

Penelo seemed to realize her stare and the smile became something bashful, and her eyes shifted away. "When you're quick, you're quick, when you're not, you're not," she said with a forced laugh. As she made the small sound, Ashe noticed a tiny scar just below her lower lip and had to fight not to stare. Penelo let her hands fall away from Ashe and stepped back.

If it had been anyone else, Ashe would've just nodded and not had a second thought. But this was Penelo, and she wanted to say something. Instead, she smiled back saying, "You preach to the choir." It made Penelo relax a little and she stepped to the side, as if to say, 'kay, now go say 'hi' to Vaan.'

She walked to him. He didn't looked suspicious anymore, just sort of curious, with his thumbs hooked on to his belt. They didn't hug or share big smiles or anything that might suggest they missed each other. Ashe was still mad about him calling her weak and he's still mad about her calling him a joke. That conversation had been the only reason they hadn't seen each other for the better part of three years.

Basically, it was this: right before taking on Vayne, Vaan made that statement that Ashe wasn't strong, but as long as there were people to support her, she'd be okay. Of course, not too long after this statement, Balthier and Fran faked death, Basch shipped out to Archades and Vaan took Penelo off with him to somewhere that wasn't near Ashe. Leaving her alone. The first time be bothered to come back was two years later, wondering if Ashe wouldn't mind pushing his and Penelo's bounty up, earn them some reputation. Ashe had laughed and said that him being a pirate with as much status as, say, Balthier, was an absolute joke. An argument ensued and that was the last they saw of each other.

Well, it went a little farther back than that…

--

_The Sand Sea Oil Refinery. Horrible, miserable place. It's hot enough out in the sand, but it was even worse on the catwalks; the rotting, peeling metal taking the heat and magnifying it. Poor Penelo had made the mistake of grabbing the railing on one set of stares. Her hand is still stinging._

_Well, they all have some burns: Vaan's outfit hurt himself, his finger sore; Fran had accidentally brushed against one of the railings, her hip has a red streak on it; Vaan had tripped at once point and Basch caught him, the force sending him against one the large oil container they were walking around, his shoulder is beginning to blister; Ashe had slid on one of the walkways that dipped into the Sea, the back of her legs are branded with angry red grate marks. _

_Balthier and Vossler manage to remain unscathed to date and everyone fights not to glare at them. The catwalks are long and twisted; the heat softens the metal and it caves under it's own weight and the freezing nights make it solid again. It's decided that will they exit the section they're in and make haste for a small area near a cave that Vossler spots to rest and recover. _

_Everyone's irritated and cranky (Balthier and Vossler less so, for obvious reasons) and they all want to just sit. Except Ashe; because of her burns, she'll have to lie on her stomach. _

_But Vaan can't sit still. Never could. So, he stands over her in the shade, his gauntlet parts and vest tucked just inside the cave to cool. "Ashe," he says._

_She doesn't open her eyes. "Yes?"_

"_I'm bored."_

_She opens her eyes, slightly confused. "Then… go… do something."_

"_I am. Talking to you."_

_This goes on for several more minutes and Ashe tells him to go speak with someone else. When he refuses, she lifts her hand into the air and snaps her fingers, calling, "Vossler! I feel threatened!"_

_At that, Vossler appears form seemingly nowhere and lifts Vaan into the air and sends him a few feet to the left, towards Penelo and the cave. He slides on the sand, and it probably hurts a lot._

_Ashe drops her hand and looks apologetically at a startled Penelo and Vossler asks, "Do you feel better?"_

_--_

Yes, it was about then that a rift was formed between them. Almost as though they were once on the same side and at her will, Vossler launched him over the abyss and onto the other. As time went on, it only became wider and wider and Ashe couldn't see him anymore. That fight made it feel as though there was never another side at all, that it was just a cliff that fell into nothingness. She wondered how he felt about it sometimes, since he was so big on 'friendship' and things related to it, but she never asked. Pride's a scary thing when it's allowed to grow.

Ashe was still feeling competitive and if his eyes meant anything, so was he. "You wanted to meet with me?" Her tone was pleasant, but solid, making sure to lightly emphasize the 'you'.

"Basch said _you_ wanted to meet with me," he returned, emphasizing the 'you', as well, though much harder.

_Oh, Basch…_ She shifted, crossing her arms. "I agreed to meet with you."

He tapped his nose in a similar way that she used to. "That's not what he said."

"That's what I'm telling you."

He took a step, leaning forward, looking smug and provoking. "Are you calling him a liar?"

"Yes." Damn the lengths she'd go for pride. Vaan leaned back a little, surprised, and opened his mouth to say something mean, but Penelo touched his arm, her eyes never leaving Ashe, mildly happy expression still in place.

"C'mon. That's not why we're here." Vaan closed his mouth and crossed his arms. Penelo took her hand back. "Ashe, Larsa said that the Occurians were behind the…" She stopped and asked, "Is it really a hurricane?"

"Yes," Ashe replied, knowing the girl was worried for Rabanastre, which was certain to be hit in a few days.

"That, or an angry, angry dust devil," Vaan muttered, picking at a stray thread from his gloves. He kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other, unable to stay still. He was still itching to be moving and doing something. A loose strand of hair moved by his neck and it caught Ashe's attention. It was then she noticed the scar that started at a point on his neck that she couldn't see and disappeared into his shirt. It was new. Red, a little purple, a couple of black-red scabs… It must've happened only a few days ago.

What kind of lives were those two living?

"Right, so…" Penelo picked up. "They're behind this?"

Ashe removed her eyes from the healing wound before Vaan could notice. "Yes, they are."

"And the old Marquis…?"

She knew Penelo was trying to be gentle while getting the information, but Ashe still had to look away as she answered. "Yes, Halim's death was a result of their actions." Why did that feel like a lie?

"So, why did you 'agree'," Vaan made the quotation gesture with his hand, still in obvious disagreement. "To meet with me?" Penelo didn't say anything, but she frowned a little, and Vaan caught himself. "Us. Agreed to meet with us."

Ashe wondered what that interaction was about, but didn't bother to ask. It was personal, and she didn't really care. She uncrossed her arms and folded them instead. "You're in contact with Fran and Balthier, right?"

Penelo blinked in surprise and Vaan got angry. He threw his head back with humorless laugh. "Oh, do not tell me we came all the way out here to deliver messages." He stopped laughing and pointed at Ashe. "I am not a Streetear, thank you very much for noticing."

"I thought you wanted to be helpful?" Ashe shot back, her hands on her hips.

Penelo stepped in between them. "And we do," she said, placing a hand on Vaan's chest and extending her other arm out a little. It didn't reach Ashe, but it could if Penelo wanted it to. She gave Vaan a stern look. "We do." She said it slowly, making some kind of point Ashe couldn't understand.

Vaan grimaced, taking a step back. "Yeah," he grumbled not looking at anyone. "We do."

Penelo nodded once, slowly, drawing out the word, "Good." She dropped her extend arm, but backed up to stay with Vaan. "Do you need to see them?"

Ashe wondered what she was being left out of but decided against asking. She nodded, crossing her arms. "Yes, both if you can. But Fran for sure."

"Just Fran?" Vaan asked, still looking sour.

As if on cue, her bracelets clinked and made the soft chime noise she usually liked. This time, they didn't echo. "Please."

"Why?"

Ashe scoffed. "As if it's any of _your_ business."

Vaan crossed his arms. Every time he moved, his ponytail moved and bounced and it very, very distracting. It was hard to make eye contact. "What the hell is that about? You asked for _our_ help!"

She rolled her eyes, pointing at him. "Yes, help _you_ offered!"

"Guys, please…" Penelo breathed, palming her eyes.

Ashe raised her voice. "Ask them to come to Rabanastre, and I will tell you!"

"Fuck that!" His was louder. "You tell me and I'll get them to Rabanastre!"

They were right in each other's faces, glaring and huffing and Ashe was so _this_ close to slapping him—really, she was; she was raising her arm--when one of the large wooden doors opened and Basch came into the room, speaking.

"I was informed by a guard their was shouting, Highness…" He stopped when he saw them.

Penelo looked up and chirped, "Basch!" happily. She moved to him and hugged the Judge armor. It looked a little awkward, her being so tiny, him in the bulky metal, but it worked.

"Penelo, good to see you." It's a kind reply and he placed a hand on her head.

Vaan and Ashe were still staring each other down when Penelo said, "Vaan! Come say 'hi' to Basch!" Even afterwards, he didn't pull back right away. Penelo said his name again and then he turned away. Basch removed his helmet and smiled at them both. They began asking question, but he held his hand up.

"A moment, please," he said, still smiling. He really was happy to see them. He appreciated their company. Ashe felt jealous, but waited for his words. He looked to her. "Ktjn would like to know when you'd return to Rabanastre."

"We leave immediately." She headed for the door. "Come with us. I'll tell you all I can on the way. But please," she looked at Vaan. "Get in contact with Fran."

Vaan looked liked he wanted to argue, he really did, but Penelo touched his arm again and Basch looked down at him, a look that said, 'you don't want to?' He nodded without complaint. "Yeah, sure."

"Ktjn?" Penelo asked as they filed out. "The Viera who joined the Clan?"

"Yes," Ashe said over her shoulder. "She worked hard and came up through the ranks." She smiled. "You can ask her all about it. She absolutely _loves_ telling the story."

She looked behind her and saw Vaan and Penelo shrug at each other. Basch smiled at her and then them before putting the helmet back on and locking it in place. "I'll go ahead and have them prepare a ship."

"Uhm, hello?" Vaan interrupted, holding up his hand like a school child with a question. "Sky pirates? Anyone, anyone?" He dropped his hand, looking proud. "We have a ship."

Ashe and Basch stopped. "You do?" Ashe asked in total astonishment.

Penelo clasped her—_callused—_hands together, entwining her fingers and Vaan jerked his thumb towards—_the scar­—_his chest, both beaming. "How about you come with _us?_"

* * *

**Author's Note: And there they are! Vaan. Penelo. _Together_. Finally. And I know the idea that some of you maybe forming. Well, I'm not going to let it grow like puss in some infected wound, festering and swelling. Ashe and Vaan are not hiding secret romantic feelings. Don't even go there and don't drag me with you. On a slightly unrelated note, I think Vaan with a ponytail like that is a attractive. Also, look forward to Ktjn. I'm in love with what I did to her. **

**Festering wound. Yum**

**R&R please, any and all commentary appreciated.**


	6. The Pablo

**Author's Note: Writing Vaan is fun. Kyahaha.**

**Story Rating: T  
Chapter Rating: T for cursing  
Chapter Summary: Ashe has a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it. Oh, well. One thing at a time... Starting with Vaan's ship.  
**

* * *

**Long Live the Queen**  
Chapter Six: The _Pablo_  
_By: Mazzie May_

The hallway grew darker as they proceeded along, Vaan leading the way, his hands folded behind his head and below his ponytail, Penelo a little behind him, squinting to read the signs. It was hard enough with so little light, and Ashe imagined her sight impairment didn't help. Next was Ashe, far off to the right near the wall, Basch farther back and more to the left.

The Marquis Manor was not too large by any means, but the walk to the private aerodome was a long one. Only several minutes in Ashe understood the guard's fatigue. Maze like corridors, tall steps and constant turns… it was hard not to get dizzy. They were practically catacombs. When Ashe was younger she used to run up and down these halls, killing time, waiting for her father and her uncle's meetings to be through. She'd bolt to and fro, this way and that, up stairs, down stairs… just go in total circles, getting herself completely lost.

She touched the wall as they rounded another corner. Lucky for her, Vossler had been there, tall enough to read the helpful signs posted about to get them back either to the aerodome or the mansion where they were supposed to be. Ashe smiled slightly, fondly remember the time she darted off into the dark, determined to hide well. She couldn't recall the reason for such determination, but she knew it was there. She ran around for what must have been three or four hours before she realized she'd never seen the flooring or wall décor before. She'd found a part of the corridors she had never been. It was exciting for all of twenty-minutes, as she skipped further along, her yellow and black dress bouncing along with her, when the walls began to change into another colour she didn't recognize.

Remembering that whenever one was lost, one was to remain in one place and wait for help, she walked about some more, looking for a comfortable place to be. She found a sitting room and, exhausted, gladly plopped herself into a soft chair, waited, and, eventually, nodded off.

When she awoke, Vossler had her all gathered in his arm, all red in the face. It wasn't until some time later, while her father was scolding her, that she was informed she'd been missing for nearly a day and that she would be apologizing to all the soldiers and _Parajahams _who hunted for her all that time, including the poor handmaid who chased off after her in the beginning and got lost herself. _And especially Vossler_, her father added, pointing to the man who sat in a chair off to the side, a bottle of water in one hand. _You were nearly to the excavation site and he ran all that way to find you._ Vossler had only nodded, saying it was his duty, but gladly took the offer to have off the rest of the day.

The hall's crystals began to become brighter, indicating they were nearing the exit. _Vossler_… Ashe touched the end of her nose with her index finger. It was something she did absent mindedly ever since she was little, usually while reading or thinking about far away thing. _Vossler, I—_

"Oh, my God!" Vaan cried in exasperation in front of her. The large metal doors that lead to the secluded aerodome were guarded by the out of breath man from earlier. "Finally!"

Ashe smiled sympathetically to the guard with a small bow, thanking him for making such an effort to inform her of her guests' arrival. He bowed back, still not quite breathing regularly, saying he was only doing his duty. As Vaan passed through the doorway, the guard glared. Vaan only smirked and Penelo pushed him through.

A dome attendant greeted them and Vaan pulled out a folded piece of paper from a side pocket. Ashe turned to Basch.

"How did you find them clearance to dock here?"

The attendant stamped the paper. "I did nothing but ask. It was the Marquis."

"Oh." They moved down the metal way past two empty hangers. At the third, Ashe gasped and Basch made a similar nose of surprise.

It's not that it was a big ship, because it wasn't, but Ashe was still impressed. It was a little on the long side for most private ships, and angled for speed. Near the jets, the ship bulked, leading most to think it had large engines, but engines these days—especially for private craft—was downsized and upgraded, meaning more power for less space. The large area back could easily contain a nice room or two, a kitchen probably. Along the body were wings, folded in to fit in the hanger probably. They were amazing long for the ship type; tucked in, they reached a good length past the jet extensions. The nose was narrow making the entire thing very aerodynamic and it gave her a clear view of the cockpit. The hull was coated in a lovely white, that clean, smooth white that reminded Ashe of lotion with the thick almost-shine. Along the sides ran a strong blue strip with black bordering it. All in all, it was a gorgeous piece of work.

Penelo was showing the stamped paper to another attendant (a man, this time, probably a mechanic) as Vaan patted the underside of the nose, grinning. "How great is this, yeah?" Ashe realized her mouth was open and she closed it. Vaan's smile was so big his eyes were almost closed. "Hell yeah, Queenie. Be amazed."

Ashe put her hands on her hips with a glare before looking back to the ship that couldn't possibly be Vaan's. It had to be someone else's—he just stole it. As she took it in once more, something about the stripe of blue caught her attention and she started laughing.

Penelo was at the top of the stairs, opening the lock when she looked back at Ashe's outburst. Vaan near the bottom of the stairs, hands on both rails, feet apart since he'd been skipping steps three at a time. Basch stood a little behind her.

The electric door slide smoothly aside, but it went unnoticed as Penelo and Vaan looked to each other for answers before turning to Basch. He touched Ashe's shoulder lightly and she waved him off, sort of kneading her left side with her right hand. She knew it wasn't enough to earn that kind of laughter, but she laughed anyway. She couldn't remember the last time laughed at all, let alone with such intensity.

"Oh, oh…" She allowed Basch to help her up the stairs as Vaan hopped ahead of them, Penelo still waiting in the doorway. "Your outfits match your ship!" It came out higher than she would have intended, but it couldn't be helped. It was hard to control her tone while she couldn't breathe.

Penelo let out a nervous giggle as her cheeks pinked, and Vaan was scarlet. "We didn't plan it!" She believed him, but the way his partner was biting her lip made Ashe think that this wasn't the first time it had happened.

"No wonder no one takes you seriously," she gasped, gripping the railing and steadying herself with the aid of Basch's hands. "You look like a theatre group."

Vaan looked like he was ready to slap the queen, but Penelo grabbed onto his belt from behind and began tugging him into the ship. He got a hold on the sides of the open-way in an effort to resist her, but it was an awkward angle and Penelo was strong for her size and she yanked him in.

Ashe had gotten a hold of herself by the time she entered and found that the ship was just as she thought it'd be; bigger on the inside than its size would suggest. The open area they were in was more like a wide hallway: to the left it led to stairs that went down and to the right, the cockpit.

She poked her head in and found Penelo flipping switches and turning dials while Vaan sat in the pilot's seat facing her, one leg over one rest, the opposite arm over the other, communication mic loosely gripped. He stuck his tongue at her. She returned the gesture in kind.

"She's probably not going to answer, you know," Vaan said, twirling the mic by the cord.

Ashe took the seat catty corner to him. "Why not?"

"Because she hates us."

Ashe recoiled into the seat as though she'd been slapped. Basch had removed his helmet, his expression perplexed. "Please, explain."

"It's not really _us_, per se," Penelo said, still fiddling with small things along the control board. "It's the ship."

"Which _we_ pilot," Vaan stated, eyes closed, continuing to swirl the mic. He opened one eye. "So, she hates us."

Ashe and Basch shared a look of curious confusion and looked back to Vaan. He closed his eye and sighed, resting his head against his unoccupied hand. "Well, after we got a hold of this airship and realized how frick'n _awesome_ it was, we started to brag about it."

Penelo snorted, _taking_ away. "You mean, _you_ started to brag about it."

"Yeah, yeah." His eyes still closed, he continued. "So, anyway, we—"

"You!"

"Alright, okay, fine! Me! _I_ said that our ship could beat the _Strahl_. And Balthier said that we were wrong and I called bullshit. Balthier said that Fran would be happy to prove us wrong and she agreed. So… we decided to have a race." He opened his eyes, moving the chair from side to side. "And who won, Penelo?"

Without looking up, though she did sound slightly put off, "We won."

"That's right," Vaan said proudly. He used his foot to push the chair around to face Ashe full on. "It wasn't neck and neck, you know."

"And it wasn't a crazy lead, either," Penelo interjected, throwing Vaan a sour look. She turned around in her seat to look at Ashe and Basch. "It wasn't a totally obvious win, but it's not something you had to think about, either."

"Whatever!" Vaan yelled letting the cord go and catching the mic as it came down. "Fact is, we won, and now Fran hates us."

Penelo scowled shaking her head. "She just doesn't like the ship."

"The ship is us!"

"We've only had it for a few months, Vaan."

Vaan had nothing to say to that and Ashe snickered. He glared and she smiled something sweet.

"Okay, okay, I've got their frequency!" Penelo chirped.

Ashe crossed her legs. "It took so long?"

"Well, despite the fact that he's not listed as number one on Arcadia's Most Wanted anymore, Balthier is still very 'popular'. They change their frequency often to avoid bounty hunters and just about anyone else who seeks them out."

"Like us," Vaan added. Penelo smacked his leg. He shrugged. "I'm tellin' you guys, you better hope Balthier's the one near the receiver; 'cause if it's Fran, our call is not getting answered."

"Don't be such a pessimist, Vaan," Basch chided.

"And why not?"

"There's no future in it."

Vaan made a face as the girls laughed. "Quite the wit there."

"One must always smile. Isn't that something you said?"

Ashe scoffed. "I believe the closest Vaan ever got to that was when that street Murmer said, 'if you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!' and Vaan did just that."

Vaan pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, but his retort never made it from his mouth. The radio crackled.

"Best make it quick, Vaan, or else Fran will catch us."

Despite the over lay of static, it was still Balthier's voice. Smooth and tinted with whatever emotion he wanted it to be. Right now it was warning, but still teasing. Something only he could do. Penelo poked Vaan's cheek as he stuck out his tongue. Ashe felt something inside her move.

"Yeah, actually, it's Fran we gotta talk to, so…"

There was a short laugh of disbelief. "I do hate to disappoint, but I strongly believe Fran will decline your conference."

"Cause she's jealous," Vaan mumbled.

"Shut up," Penelo said. She took the mic. "Actually, Balthier—"

"And hello to you, as well, Penelo."

"Oh!" She blushed. "Hello, Balthier."

"Actually me, what then?"

"Well, it's not us who needs to speak with Fran."

There was a moment of silence, and Ashe could just envision his eyes narrowing as he quickly ran the list of names through his head, all the people who would need to talk to Fran. "This isn't a social call, I take it."

Penelo pushed the mic into Ashe's hands. Despite her throat being tight, she held the receiver up. "I'm afraid it isn't, Balthier." Her voice came out normal, level and even a little bit pleasant.

For the first time in a long time, they heard a surprised Balthier. "…Princess! Or is it Queen now?"

Unable to fight a sigh, she heaved, "Queen," in hopes the sudden sadness was passed off as tired.

"Yes, of course..." The silence was short, but somehow thick. The others were fooled, perhaps he wasn't. "I'd ask how you are, but if you've gone to that buffoon, things cannot be well."

Vaan made a loud noise of protest and Penelo slapped him again. Ashe breathed out slowly. "No, things are not well."

"The Hurricane, Highness?" She closed her eyes.

"Please, Balthier, can you find Fran for me?"

"She's been here all along." There was a quiet sound of movement from the _Strahl_'s side and Vaan swore in surprised anger.

"It is I."

Ashe didn't know where to start. She had known she would have to speak with Fran and had also known that that might require speaking to Balthier. But to hear his voice after so long… Fran's as well, it threw Ashe through a loop and her train of thought was lost.

Basch placed his hand on her shoulder. The weight it brought was comforting, whether it was the armors doing or not. "Have them find themselves in Rabanastre," he suggested quietly. She nodded to him.

"Fran, I've two favors to ask."

"Listening is something I am well with." Her unique and earthly voice sounded so bizarre mingled with the film of white noise.

"The first of which is to come to Castle Rabanastre and second, to hear me out once you arrive."

Ashe could imagine Fran cocking her head to the side, sliding her eyes to Balthier curiously and he folding his arms, tilting his head back, encouraging her to go on. "These are tall requests, yes?"

"Yes."

There was a long silence afterwards. Fran and Balthier were probably discussing whether to go or not. She didn't answer for so long that when the crackle broke from the speaker, Ashe, Penelo and Vaan all jumped. It's hard to say is Basch did or not; so much armor.

"Do you seek only myself?"

Ashe fought to bite her lip. This would be tricky. She locked eyes with Vaan who seemed to be daring her to say something, but what it was, she didn't know. "You for most certain, but both of you would be greatly appreciated."

Vaan seemed dissatisfied with her answer which made her feel a flare of triumph, as though she had said the right thing. Fran seemed to think so to. "I will come. We will come."

Balthier's voice followed hers. "We'll see you in Rabanastre, Highness."

Vaan snatched the mic from her. "We'll be there, too, you know! Beat you there!"

But his response was only met with dead air. Vaan tossed the mic back to Penelo, who placed it back on its holder, and began switching things on and pressing buttons. Basch took the seat across from Ashe.

"This is hanger three, requesting clearance."

A slow, tired voice answered. "Rodger, _Braha_… You're the, uh… _Pablo_, _haa_?"

Ashe burst out laughing, quickly covering her mouth and doubling over in her seat. Vaan turned in the chair. "Shut up! _Pablo_ is an awesome! There is nothing wrong with _Pablo, _so you just shut the hell up!"

"Yes, this is the _Pablo_," Penelo half hissed at Vaan.

"Rodger that, _Bhara_" the drawled out voice answered, either unaffected or unfazed by her tone. "Clearance granted."

The covering of the aerodome began to open; the metal plates retracting further to the sides smoothly, the sunlight slipping through the growing open space like water rushing over the edge of an empty fountain. Ashe blinked rapidly, her eyes trying to adjust. The others only squinted, use to that kind of transition.

Despite her worries, Vaan proved to be a decent pilot, lifting them smoothly and quietly into the air. Ashe stared out the window as Vaan turned the ship towards Rabanastre. The cloud of Sand Sea was off far away, nearly out of site, but it didn't matter, not really, not right now because all Ashe could see was blue, lots of blue and she couldn't remember the last time she was so close to the sky and let her imagination sweep her mind, taking her away as they shot off towards her kingdom.

* * *

**Author's Note: Best. Ship. Name. Ever. Thank you, TheDonutMistress. The name already has a back story and it will be explained in a little bit. And I'm admit it, because I'm shameless enough to; I chickened out on introducing Balthier. Which is why his first apperance isn't an "apperance" at all, just his voice. I have no confidence in writing him. Any input on his personality is crazy appreciated. Also, many thanks to Shikhee who was nice enough to look this over for me, despite her demanding schedule and persistant headache (that my story caused?).**

**R&R please, any commentary appreciated.**


	7. Unlocking Truths

**Author's Note: Because I don't know when I'll be online again**

**Story Rating: T  
Chapter Rating: M for multiple drops of the F-Bomb, implied mass murder  
Chapter Summary: A queen cannot live happily ever after if she is called false.**

* * *

**Long Live the Queen**  
Chapter Seven: Unlocking Truths  
_By: Mazzie May_

The flight to Rabanastre was a short trip for two reasons; one, Bhujerba wasn't that far from Rabanastre, especially with a ship as fast as Vaan and Penelo's and two, Ashe wasn't paying attention. Her consciousness was drifting in and out, not due entirely to her fatigue (though that did play a part), but it was being kneaded gently by imagination and daydreams that were more memories than anything else.

Her mother lifting her up towards the sky.

Halim pointing out rainbows.

Rasler announcing shapes in the clouds.

Vossler holding on to her as she leaned over railings atop airship decks.

Her father spinning her around in the air.

Just her and the blue with no limit, that which would continue on forever and ever, far beyond Ivalice and past the ends of the earth. She had once been told that the sky was only as vast as one imagined it to be. Ashe thought it infinite and took comfort in the thought that somewhere, no matter how far away, there was a place the Occuria couldn't touch. A place where all Uncle Ha'li's were alive and well, a place where there were no hurricanes of sand and people full not of despair, but happiness.

It was a silly thought, but it was one she held onto as the _Pablo_ neared the Rabanastre Aerodome, the swirling gold and brown that was just behind the horizon coming into view. The Sand Sea was beautiful, but what was before her was something ugly and it would be upon the city and plains in two days time. Ashe stared at it until the only thing she could see was the metal inside of the aerodome.

As she turned away from the window she found Basch watching her. His expression was sympathetic, but no more than his position could allow. Her smile was of false reassurance and worry crossed his face momentarily. He made movement to speak, but was cut off.

"Okay! We're here!" Vaan swiveled himself around in his chair and hopped out towards them, heading for the door. Penelo followed him and Basch and Ashe unbuckled themselves before doing the same. Vaan waited near the door, staring at a small red light. Ashe stared at it as well.

"It for the docking way," Basch explained, holding his helmet at his side. Ashe tilted her head towards him to show she was listening, still watching the light. "It will turn off once the pathway is fully extended. The one next to it," he pointed just to the left of the red light. "Will turn green, the red switching off, once the pathway is locked onto the dock pads that line the bottom of the door."

"Hey, not bad!" Vaan said with a smile, smacking Basch's arm. "I'm impressed Bas—"

Ashe hissed so as to cut him off, as Basch held up his hand, his expression stern. "You must never refer to me as that in public and around certain parties," he warned. "I am Gabranth, Judge Magister, sworn protector of Arcadia and its ruler. Do you understand?"

Vaan looked very apologetic, mentally berating himself for forgetting and Penelo winced, probably remember how she'd referred to him earlier, back at the manor. Ashe exhaled and pushed her hair back from her face.

"Do you understand, then?" she asked, the sudden alarm she felt still draining away.

Penelo said, "Yes," and Vaan said, "Yeah," both looking slightly ashamed. Basch nodded to them, helmet already on and locked securely in place.

"We could not afford such a scandal as that," he said, his tone forgiving but definitely stressing. "Neither Archadia, nor Dalmasca."

"Especially Dalmasca," Ashe muttered, pushing her hair back again and smoothing her dress. It wouldn't do to have a rumbled queen stepping off an unnamed airship, no matter how nice it looked.

There was a small sound like a switch being thrown, and the red light above the door turned off, the green blinking on next to it. Penelo turned around and brought her hand up, beginning to press buttons that rested on a pad next to the door. As she rapidly typed in whatever pass codes were needed, Vaan rubbed at his nose.

"Do you see the off lights along the top of the number pad?" he asked, pointing. Ashe nodded. "It's a security measure."

"Every current airship is fitted with such a mechanism, are they not?" Basch asked, more as input than anything else.

Vaan nodded. "Yup. If you're ship didn't come with one, they made you get one installed." He blinked suddenly, remembering, "Unless your ship is, like, twenty years old."

Ashe looked at him. "Why twenty?"

"Because ships that are Barton Brand shouldn't be in the air," he said with a laugh and Basch chuckled, Penelo letting out a small giggle. Ashe folded her arms. Apparently, she missed the humor of the sentence. Vaan continued. "There used to only be one airship manufacturer, and that was Barton Brand. Anything older than fifteen years has to be Barton Brand. They went out of business when the mass producers stepped up, so nothing's compatible with anything that old. Which means when something breaks, that's it; no one makes the parts for those kinds of ships anymore." He blew his bangs away from his face. "So, if you've got a working airship that's that old, it's gotta be Barton Brand, and the AA won't make you do something about it." He hooked his thumbs onto his belt and leaned forward, right up to Ashe's face, whispering, "That's the Airways Association."

She smiled dryly, put her hand over his face and pushed him backwards. "I was aware, thank you." He stumbled, trying to catch himself. She shifted her weight. "And why won't the AA interfere?"

Vaan had a hold on his nose, which made him sound funny. "Mo'ly becuz dere's nuh-sing—" He removed his hand and shook his head, placing his hands back on his belt. "—that can be done, but also because if you've got yourself a working Barton Brand, you're a mechanical _mastermind_, and you can do whatever the hell you damn well want."

Ashe thought on what he'd said for a moment, watching sniff through his nose a few times, deciding to file that information away in a safe place. You never know what you might need to know. "But, about the security pad?"

"Oh, right." Vaan smirked and thumped his head, as if to say 'duh, sorry'. "See, those lights are like the levels to the lock and each time you light one up, you've unlocked one of the levels." He waved her over to Penelo's nimble fingers. "The red light is the basic lock, and that's the one for your ship, so that code never changes. It's the ships registration number.

"Yellow is your own code number. Anyone with a license has their own code." Ashe slowly turned her head at him, looking at him suspiciously. He held up his hands, waving her off. "I know what you're thinking! Yes, even we have licenses. Balfonheim provided them for us, but other cities with 'domes provide them, too. They're legal and everything. Anyway," he gestured back to the lights. "Yellow is your own personal code that comes with your license. It's to prove you're a registered pilot and not just someone who jacked a ship."

Ashe frowned. "If that was the case, wouldn't it display who you are?"

Vaan shook his head with a short laugh. "No, thank God, it just acknowledges whether or not you're in the database. If it displayed personal information, we all would've been caught by now." He faced the keypad again and so did Ashe. "Next is the blue light. The code for that one is the city's. Now, that you have to stay up on, because CWC—City Wide Code—changes once a month.

"After that is the green light and that's the aerodome code. This is the hardest part of the lock to get past when sneaking into a city, because this code changes _randomly_, forcing you to call in and inform the Control that you're arriving, because you have to ask for that code. There's no way around it. Unless…" he shifted his eyes, looking sly. She waited, though curious. "You've got some good hacking skills."

Basch interrupted this time. "Hacking itself is not difficult, Highness."

Vaan looked back and nodded, an almost thoughtful scowl on his face. "No, no. Hacking isn't that hard at all; anybody could do that. It's hacking and not getting caught that's such a pain in the ass. See, you have to hang in the airspace and listen in on someone else radio call to Control to get the current code. Even if you do that successfully, you have to get in there quickly; aerodome codes can last up to a few days, or only a few _minutes_. It's seriously tricky and most people try their best to not get themselves into situations that would force them to do it."

A few final taps and a purple light blinked on. Every code in place, Penelo stepped back and Vaan slid what appeared to be a card key down a reader Ashe hadn't noticed before. The door slide open.

"What was the purple light?" she asked Penelo, as Vaan has already stepped out.

"Hmm? Oh!" She smiled, "Today's date," and began moving across the catwalk.

Ashe followed her, surprised. "All of that, followed by the date?"

Penelo turned around and began walking backwards, her hands dragging along on the rib high railings to steady her self as she continued talking. "See, that's the point, though! Remembering all of that hard stuff and getting the aerodome code is really attention demanding. Bad pirates, high stake thieves and ill-legit people in general tend to forget the last code because of that." The belt that was once Vaan's thumped around her legs and the sound echoed. When Ashe didn't say anything, she frowned. "Does that make sense?" She smiled apologetically. "I guess I didn't explain that very well?"

Ashe shook her head, her own small smile on her lips. "No, no. Just taking it all in. I'd never heard of any of this before."

"The real irony," Basch began from behind, Ashe tilting her head back to listen as Penelo looked passed her, still walking backwards. "Is that the man who thought up this elaborate security system is the former head of Barton Brands and was one of its three founders."

Ashe frowned a little in thought. _Huh…_ Seemed a little odd for a man to design something that couldn't be added to one of his own airships. Penelo either read her expression or shared her thoughts.

"Weird, isn't it? When asked about it, all he said was that he loved airships and working on them, even if they weren't his own." She smiled again before facing forward. "Seems like a good guy to me..."

As soon as they were off the pathway, Vaan leaned over a small consol and slid his card through another reader. It made a small _beep_ noise and that pathway began to retract slowly into their side of the open space. It disappeared into the wall with a loud sound. Penelo walked ahead of them.

She spun in a full circle and asked to no one in particular. "Where is everyone?" The docking way was deserted, no one around. Ashe thought it might unnerve the two of them since the last time they here it was probably full of people, movement and noise. To her surprise (mild dismay?), however, they didn't seem much bothered at all. Their lips were drawn in short frowns, but the way their eyes shifted around didn't give Ashe the impression that they were surprised.

"Something up?" Vaan asked her and she blinked, realizing that someone had said something, probably to her, and she'd missed it. She shook her head, the automatic polite smile forming as she tilted her slightly.

"No, I'm sorry?"

Vaan didn't believe her, it was written all over his face, but he didn't ask. Nosey Vaan wasn't so nosey anymore, was he? She fought off the sudden urge to sigh as he jerked his head in Penelo's direction. She was tugging on her gloves and looking at Ashe worriedly, who only continued to smile.

"I was asking if there was a reason we're not leaving?" Ashe furrowed her brow and began to twist the feathers on her gloves. "It's just that, you and… Gabranth, you two haven't even moved yet. I was wondering why."

Ashe nodded to her before turning around to Basch.

"We wait for her Highness' escort, and our masks." Vaan snapped his fingers.

"That's why the place is empty!"

"Right." Basch walked past them. "When the Queen—or any official—is scheduled to arrive, the aerodome is cleared out. It's a safety measure to decrease the chance of hostile individuals getting near her Highness."

"Wait," Vaan interjected. " What do you mean, 'hostile individuals'?"

"Assassins, among others…"

Penelo held her arm from behind her back. "'Others'?"

Basch looked at Ashe and the other two followed suit. Ashe shifted her gaze off to the side, to the floor and then back to them. Shrugging slowly with a pathetic smile, she said, "Not everyone believes I am Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca, you see." She continued to smile, but closed her eyes. She didn't want to see the expressions that accompanied Vaan and Penelo's, "_What?_"

"Fucking, why not?!" Vaan asked in angry disbelief. His hands were balled into fists and Penelo's had hers clasped over her mouth, eyes wide.

"How can that be…?" was her small question.

Eyes still closed, smile still in place, Ashe tilted her head down, picking at the lace on her gloves again. "Do you remember when we were aboard the _Leviathan_?" She couldn't see them, but she knew they did. "Basch announced that they only way to prove I was myself was to attain one of the shards awarded to Raithwall's descendants."

"But why?" Vaan asked, pacing, stomping. "Why would you—"

"Because the Princess Ashe was to have taken her own life by way of her departed father's sword," Basch interjected. Vaan stopped pacing and slowly faced Basch, his mouth hanging open.

"Right after our king's murder, the late Marquis had announced her Highness' suicide, thus allowing any country free reign of Dalmascan soil. All thought the princess dead."

Vaan shook his head, pushing his hair from his face. "But…! You were still in Rabanastre! People had to have seen you!"

"Did you see her?" Basch asked gently.

Vaan angrily scoffed to the side, hands on hips, having nothing to say to that. Penelo tried next, stepping up beside him. Her left hand was drawn, resting just below her collarbone, the arm extended out.

"But the resistance members…?

"Did not know I was truly the Lady Ashe. I was Amalia to them and everyone I met in those two years." Ashe opened her eyes, the smile becoming sad. "The only way to keep me out of harm was to ensure that none sought me out. To do that, however, Vossler was forced to convince everyone I was truly dead."

Vaan bit the inside of his cheek, glaring at nothing. "That's why you needed the Dusk Shard."

"Exactly. It was well hidden in the castle. For two whole years the Empire had not discovered it, and then you…"

Vaan closed his eyes, like he was trying to make the memory go away. Penelo shook her head. "So, you mean, no one believes you?"

Ashe sighed. "Some people do. Some people want to believe. A few others like to say, 'I knew it. I knew she was really the Lady'…" She shook her head with another sigh, folding her arms around her self. "There are many more, though, who think I am only Amalia, Ashelia's near twin, who has claimed the throne for myself."

"And without the Dawn, Midlight or Dusk Shards," Basch added. "There's no way to prove otherwise."

"Goddammit…!" Vaan cursed facing away from them. Penelo stared in distress at the bricked floor.

"It's no one's fault but mine," Ashe said, displaced by their reactions. "I was the one who left the shards behind in the Tower. It was I who tried to destroy the Sun Cryst."

Vaan whirled around. "Fucking, I know that! But I encouraged you!"

Basch gestured for him to calm down. "We all did," he admitted gently. "Neither her Highness nor I thought this far ahead." He and Ashe sighed in unison.

"So much talk of the power of Nethicite," Ashe thought out loud, pushing her hair back away from her face with both hands. "And how evil it could make one, the corruption of only its touch, and I…" She laughed out the rest of her thought. "I completely forgot that I needed it to prove who I was."

"No one could vouch for you?" Penelo asked, distraught disbelief consuming her appearance, from her facial expression to her posture. Ashe shook her head a little, hugging herself again. She looked to Basch. "But you—"

"Gabranth had not met her Highness prior to the treaty," he stated softly. Penelo sighed almost painfully and shook her head.

Vaan came back to the conversation, one hand on his hip, the other gesturing with his words. "And there's no one else?" he tried. "No one from the castle?"

Ashe shook her head again, looking pained. "Those who were once employed under my father…" She inhaled deeply, gaining control of her features. "Many of them revolted when Vayne came into possession of the castle." She looked Vaan dead in the eye. "They were executed."

Vaan inhaled sharply and Penelo dropped her arms to her side. "I remember that…" she muttered. Vaan turned to her.

"That's right. Your parents…"

Ashe snapped her eyes to Vaan's right. _Penelo…_ Ashe knew that they were orphans; Vaan's parents were wiped out during the first wave of the plague, it was something they talked about once. But she'd never known about Penelo's. To think, she might have known them. _How utterly depressing_.

Penelo shrugged. "Is there anyone else from the castle?" She didn't want to talk about it. Fine. Ashe shook her head.

"The only other individual who could speak for me would be my protector."

"So, why not go ask him?" Vaan asked, looking tired and angry, but expectant.

Ashe sighed, tucking some hair behind her ear. "That's not possible, Vaan."

He scoffed. "Why not?"

"Vossler is dead."

Vaan's mouth dropped open and Penelo sucked in air through her teeth. Basch gestured to something behind the two of them, but neither noticed. Ashe's statement had been deadpanned, but there was a sadness in her eyes that would probably never go away. Penelo turned around and Vaan stepped forward, looked like he was going to apologize, when his partner let out a weak shriek of surprise.

Ashe stepped back as a blur of colour came in between them and Vaan cried out as the colour blur wrapped itself around him.

Basch sighed as Ashe covered her mouth hiding her smile. The colourful hair whipped around and long finger hugged Vaan's head into her breasts.

"Mmrf!" was all Vaan could do as Penelo stood off to the side, looking slightly mortified.

"I'm just so excited!" The Viera laughed. She pulled Vaan back and looking him in the eyes. "Remember me?"

"Ktjn, please…" Ashe tried, with an exasperated smile. The Viera only went back to smothering a surprised Vaan.

* * *

**Author's Note: I know the locking mechanism seems... a bit much. I wrote to proove that Vaan and Penelo aren't just two kids with a ship in this story. They're really sky pirates, they're really serious about what they do and they know what they're doing. Vaan's not the little boy with far away dreams and Penelo's not his personal cheerleader. About Ashe being doubt as queen. I mean, really. Seems a little unlikely that for two years she was dead and then this Amalia chick is like, "You know all those times I said I wasn't Ashe, like, I really wasn't? Actually, yeah, I am Ashelia. I can't proove it, just take my word for it." I don't know about the people of Dalmasca, but I would call bullshit.**

**R&R please, any and all commentary appreciated.**


	8. A Push in a Direction

**Author's Note: -looks around- An… anybody still… around?**

**Story Rating: T  
Chapter Rating: T for swearing  
Summary: It is not Al-Cid. It is not marriage. It is Rozzaria that she seeks.**

* * *

**Long Live the Queen**  
Chapter Eight: A Push in a Direction  
_By: Mazzie May_

Ashe quietly withheld a smile as Vaan struggled against Ktjn's hold. The Viera had changed so much over the years; it was hard to believe that she was once a Wood Dweller. Her white hair was now streaked with green, purple and yellow, the tips of her ponytail and bangs bright red. There were random braids of various lengths and widths with blue and teal beads weaved into them. Her ears were pierced with studs and hoops, some of them connected by silver chains with pearls.

She wore Viera attire similar to those of a Wood Dweller, only it was a bright, nearly white yellow and the stomach was filled in, as opposed to the usual lace. The armor had matching hand protectors, although she didn't use the finger guards, as her nails were too long. She had midnight-like blue cloth wrapped around her legs beneath the armor, from her ankles to the middle of her thigh, and her arms as well, from her triceps to her wrists. Her pointed feet were completely covered, her stilettos triple heeled.

It had always made Ashe nervous that her weapon of choice was something from the "katana" family; it was a type of sword used commonly in a country far off to the northeast that had been growing in popularity amongst officers of higher rank. Ashe couldn't use it; the blade was too heavy for her body and too long for her reach, but it almost seemed designed for Ktjn's (or Viera in general) body type, which Ashe always thought was very silly, since the people in the country the sword came from were rather small and thin.

What bothered her about it the most was that Ktjn kept it secured to her_ back_, unsheathed in most cases, unless she was accompanying Ashe to a party or some other formal gathering that a naked sword might cause discomfort or alarm. And with Ktjn's long hair always whipping around, Ashe was constantly amazed that it wasn't sliced away.

Thankfully, she realized as she watched Ktjn suffocate Vaan, the blade was secure in the long dark blue lacquer case, the sign of a Dalmascan soldier embroidered near the top with pretty yellow silk, which was also another custom from the country far to the northeast.

Penelo choked a little and turned to Ashe. "_Ktjn_?!"

Ashe let out a short, embarrassed chuckle. "Yes," she started, gesturing to the female in question. "I'm afraid she's become rather Hume for a Viera."

"And I take that as a compliment," Ktjn said proudly. Having released Vaan, she stood to his side, arm over his shoulder. She smiled prettily at him. "And it's all in great thanks to you!" She used the long nail on her middle finger to tap him on the nose.

Vaan looked bewildered, but pleased. "You're welcome," he said, looking up at her with a grin.

She brought her other arm around, bringing him into a loose hug, resting her head over his. "Really, if it were not for you, I would never have joined the Clan and become who I have become." She pulled back and said very seriously. "I have surpassed even my sister."

"Krjn is most impressed and pleased," Ashe added. Actually, in all honesty, Ashe had extended the invitation of her ranks to Krjn first. The Viera Warrior politely but firmly declined. Ashe respected her answer and didn't follow up on it. Several months later, Krjn sent a letter to Ashe, explaining that she felt her sister was quite capable of the position Ashe had offered to herself. Ktjn proved to be everything her sister promised and, over time, more.

As she played with Vaan's hair, Ashe was very aware that all the time in Hume Company had affected the younger Viera. Ashe put Fran well over a hundred, but Ktjn had only just turned thirty recently.

Basch looked at her and Ashe nodded. They needed to return to the castle. Reunions could wait until after things had calmed down. She cleared her throat.

Ktjn snapped her head around to look at Ashe and apologized with a nod. One of the guards that had waited patiently, though uneasily, stepped forward, carrying two black boxes. He handed one to Penelo and opened the other for Ashe.

The white masks fit all the way around the lower area of the face. Nose to chin was covered, cheeks and jaw line hidden behind the thick and soft material. Silk cord was threaded through at the ends, allowing the wearer to loop the flex around their ears, holding the mask in place.

After securing hers on, Ashe pushed her hair down around her ears to hide the cords. Penelo didn't have any problems with hers and Ktjn put Vaan's on for him.

"I feel like a ninja," he said, though his voice was muffled. 'Ninja', a kind of multi-purpose combatant, originating (and staying) in the country to the northeast. My, was that place becoming popular these days.

"Uhm…" Penelo used her index finger to hook onto the top of her mask, pulling it down a little. "Doesn't everyone else need a mask, too?"

Ktjn shook her head. "Viera are immune to this air, and," she added, pointing, "The guards present only have theirs pulled down."

Penelo looked to Basch.

"My helmet is fitted with a filter," he informed. She seemed satisfied with their responses; nodding and pulling the mask back up.

"We'll be riding the carriage back to the castle," Ktjn said, gesturing for the guards to wear their masks properly.

"Aw, why?" Vaan's whine came through the mask clearly, which annoyed Ashe. "The Carriage rides around the city, not through it."

Basch turned to him. "What was our conversation's topic prior to Commander Ktjn's arrival?"

Vaan's eyes widened for a moment, before he cast his gaze to the floor, hooking his thumbs onto his belt. Penelo lowered her head a little as well, holding her arm from behind her back. Obviously, she had wondered the same thing. Ashe felt a sting of sympathy for two of them; it was not their fault she was questioned so. From the way they'd been acting, Ashe got the impression it'd been some time since either of them had been within Rabanastre walls. They were probably worried about their friends.

She felt eyes on her and she looked up to find Ktjn watching her with curious worry. It was common knowledge that there was doubt of Ashe's identity, but when Ktjn was informed of just how deep that seed was rooted, she'd been horrified. She'd become one of Ashe's pillars of support since then and Ashe's appreciation of her knew no depth. But the thought of taking the helping hand in front of Vaan and Penelo angered her for some reason she couldn't find. It angered her greatly.

Ashe shook her head to Ktjn. The Viera nodded once and Ashe hoped she understood.

"Let's be off, then!" Ktjn called out and guards began moving for the doors. Basch walked ahead with them.

Ktjn linked her arm with Vaan's as they moved forward, Ashe and Penelo making up the rear side-by-side.

"So," Ktjn began. "The _Pablo_, hmm?"

"Oh, I wanted to ask about that, too," Ashe added, looking over at Penelo. She gasped a little as she found the girl with her head bowed in what appeared to be shame, and Ashe could almost see the dark cloud that rained only on her. "Pe… Penelo?" she asked worriedly.

--

_They've done it! They've stolen their own ship! And it's great one to boot! Vaan wagers that it's as good as the _Strahl_ and Penelo quietly admits that that is a strong possibility. _

_After arriving in Balfonheim, Vaan decides to go to the tavern in celebration. Everyone there is very happy for the two of them and offer to pay for their drinks. Penelo makes the wise decision to not drink, but Vaan gladly swallows her share of shots. She doesn't ingest a single drop of alcohol, but she still looses count of all the drinks that were giving to them._

_As she tries to get a completely annihilated Vaan out of the door, someone asks what the name of the ship is. In a hurry to leave, she makes the mistake of informing them they haven't decided on a name yet. The entire tavern roars, saying they have to go register it right away. Much to her horror, Vaan sloppily agrees._

_And then hurls into the bushes._

_Despite her please and best efforts to drag him away, he manages to make it to the registration office. The poor man behind the counter looks worried, almost a little scared and Penelo shakes her head, apologizing as Vaan asks for the papers._

_She nervously watches over his shoulder, and manages to calm down just a little bit as Vaan proves to not be a total moron; his writing his clear, nothing goes outside of the lines and nothing's being recorded incorrectly._

_Finally, it comes time to name it. Vaan's eyes roll back for a minute and Penelo gasps, worried he'll pass out. He keeps his balance, however. She begs him not to name the ship what he wanted to name it on the way over. He says he's captain, he'll name it whatever he wants._

"_Please," she begs, tugging on the arm that's holding the pen, keeping him from writing anymore. "Please, Vaan?"_

_He mumbles something._

"_Gods, please do not name it _Crap Sandwich_. I'm begging you!"_

_Maybe it's her pleading or perhaps he sobers up a little, because he sighs and looks to the attendant._

"_What'd'yoo 'ink?" Vaan asks him._

_The man looks past him to Penelo who shakes her head slowly, quietly beseeching him. "Well…" he begins, slowly looking back to Vaan. "I, uh… I believe that name is taken."_

"_What?!" Vaan asks, obviously upset._

"_Uh, yes… Just this morning, I'm afraid."_

_Vaan mutters about timing and Penelo mouths her grateful thank you's. The man only nods with a small, sympathetic smile._

"_You know how…" Vaan begins. "How people name their babies after doctors?" The man nods slowly, unsure and Penelo wants to hang herself because she's never going be able to live this kind of embarrassment down. "You're like the doctor! What's your name?"_

_Penelo heaves a sigh of relief, because his first sentence had so much potential to be so much worse. The man looks at her again and she can only shrug. He tries to smile a little. "Ezekiel," he offers with a small, uncomfortable shrug._

"_Pablo it is!" Vaan announces, slamming his fist onto the counter and jots it down as Ezekiel stares at him in absolute confusion and Penelo crouches low to the ground, both hands forming a visor over her eyes as she stares at the floor and tries not to cry._

_--_

Penelo looked off into the shadows on the other side of the floor, looking totally depressed as what was visible of Vaan's face burned brightly in the poor light as he practically stomped along.

Ashe was so glad for her mask. She wouldn't laugh, she _wouldn't,_ but smiling was inevitable because that? That was funny.

As they moved out into the waiting area, the attendants bowed respectfully. Their masks weren't anywhere near as thick as the one she wore and in retrospect, couldn't be as effective.

One of them coughed.

It bothered Ashe greatly that the people of her kingdom could not afford higher quality masks. She wanted to buy them all better ones and the dealer that provided them had no problem with that. The real hurdle was the fact that the material that was used for them was hard to produce and was more commonly found within the western countries. On top of that, there'd be the hassle of precise measurements for Humes, Bangaa and Seeq alike. It would take too long and Ashe's council strongly advised against it.

They moved quietly out into the street where the carriage awaited them. There were more guards outside, forming a half circle and facing the crowd. Ashe smiled gently to the people as they stared back, watching politely and curiously, a few waving. Most had their faces covered, but a few were coughing into their hands. She noticed several Seeq with scarves wrapped around their large snouts and one even had a tablecloth. When she had first left, the Bangaa had been wondering what they could use. It seemed they'd given up for as she made her way to the open carriage door, she didn't see a single one with any kind of protection.

Vaan, Penelo and herself climbed inside. Ktjn and Basch walked along beside the guards. Vaan couldn't keep from nearly pressing himself against the window, staring into the city. Ashe casually glanced out. The city was as it had always been, but the change was momentous and noticeable; women still chattered on in their circles as they held handkerchiefs over their mouths and noses. Children still ran and splashed in the fountains, laughing despite the bandanas tied around their heads. Men still walked in and stumbled out of bars. The stores were running just as usual.

"The people are the same," Vaan mumbled, his tone strange, unsure.

"It's not the people who have changed, Vaan," Ashe said to the back of his head. "It's the air."

Penelo gripped her pants. "Migelo, is he…?"

"Oh, shit! That's right, I forgot." Vaan leaned back and looked at Ashe. She stared blankly at him. He waited.

She shook her head a little. "What?"

"How's Migelo?"

"I don't know, Vaan," she said, rather annoyed. Both he and Penelo shot her an 'excuse me?' look and Ashe sighed. She understood their concern, really, she did. But how in the hell was she to know? Honestly, they expect too much of her. _Just like the rest of Ivalice?_

She closed her eyes and dropped her head, rubbing her temple. Why was she like this? What happened to her? Since Rasler's death, she felt jaded, but when did she let the bitterness consume her so? How did her self-loathing become so great that she lashed out at others?

Penelo touched her knee. "Highness…?"

"Forgive me," she mumbled, looking up. "I'm not aware of Migelo's status. I do know the one called 'Old Dalan' still lives, however."

Vaan and Penelo heaved great sighs and Vaan lets out a low chuckle. "Heh, of course he is. Of course he is…" He rubbed the top of his thigh slowly in some sort of containment gesture. Or maybe it was soothing. She really didn't know their mannerisms very well, and what she had seen could've changed greatly over the years. Whatever it was, it wasn't conscious, he wasn't aware he was doing it.

Penelo seemed just as pleased, but asked, "You're sure then?"

Ashe nodded. "This 'Old Dalan' is one of the reasons a serious revolt hasn't been lead against me. Many people have said, 'If Dalan believes, then so shall I.' I owe him much gratitude."

Vaan shook his head with a curse and ran his hand over his leg again. Definitely unconscious, probably soothing. Penelo entwined her fingers. "I still can't believe that…"

"What about that guy?" Ashe raised her eyebrow.

"What 'guy' is this?"

"You know," Vaan said, waving his hand side to side. "The guy we met at the mountain."

Ashe fought the mean laughter in her throat. "The Gran Kiltias?"

"Yeah, that guy! Knew you knew who I meant." Ashe rolled her eyes. "Anyway, he said he knew you were you, right?"

Ashe crossed her legs and arms, looking him in the eye. "What I'm about to explain is very educational. I hope it doesn't hurt you."

He probably sneered beneath the mask, saying, "What a bitch." Penelo swung her arm to the side, hitting him.

Ashe took no offense. "There is more to our world than Ivalice and many religions reside within. Ivalice's central religion is led by the Gran Kiltias. That does not make his word law." Vaan tilted his head back a little, but Ashe beat him to it. "If he said the sky was orange would you believe him?"

"That would all depend on the time of day." Penelo hit him again and Ashe shook her head.

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do." He leaned forward, rubbing the sore spot on his arm. "But still. That's why we went there, right? Because the Grand what's-his-fuck has to recognize royalty, right?"

"My point, Vaan," Ashe continued, trying to remember why she was doing this to herself. "Is not all heed the call of the Gran Kiltias, and even if they should, the message never got out." Vaan paused in popping his knuckles, Penelo crossed her legs. "He promised me support, but cautioned me to find the Nethicite, as he knew his words alone would not be enough. Unfortunately, he was," she sighed, "…_slain_ before I could even publicly receive his blessing."

"Shit," Vaan said, shaking his head. "It's like… like there's something stopping you, almost like—"

"The Gods are interfering, yes." Ashe nodded towards the window. "All of this is punishment for denying their wishes."

"So, what?" Vaan asked, looking extremely put off. "You're still you! Just because—"

Ashe had had enough. The wind was beginning to pick up, grains of sand scattered about it. The hurricane would be on them before the day after's morning and _she'd had enough_. She laced her fingers over her knee and let the hatred she felt for herself flow from somewhere deep inside, to her face and up into her eyes as her lips curled back.

"Hear me, Vaan, and hear me well; I've no proof I am I. All that has kept me from being dethroned all this time is the words of Lord Larsa, Al-Cid and the late Marquis. And do you know what they have?" Penelo's expression and small movement seem to be begging her to calm down.

Vaan was watching her carefully, listening, waiting for something. Studying her. As if she were a bug, his gaze loomed over her, holding the magnifying glass that would set her on fire.

"Nothing," she spat. "Nothing at all. Just my face and the desperate will to believe." She flipped a random curl away from her angry eyes with a quick jerk of her head. "For the two years that I lived Amalia, imposters from all over tried to win over Halim Ondore as myself. Women from not only Ivalice, but all over the _world_ claimed my name. And do you know why they were turned away?" She didn't wait for them to attempt an answer. "Because they had no proof."

Penelo had leaned back against the seat at some point, looking very uncomfortable. Vaan's eyes hadn't changed, but he was frowning. Neither he nor Penelo were aware of that last bit. Again she flicked her hair away.

"So, then. With all of this disturbing information in mind, why should anyone believe me?" She laughed humorlessly, her head dropping. "For all you know, I'm not the Lady Ashe."

At their silence, she slowly brought her head up and was startled to find them completely still. They weren't moving, weren't breathing, nothing. The carriages swaying didn't affect them at all and then Ashe realized the carriage was stopped as well.

She uncrossed her arms slowly, carefully looked outside the curtained windows. Nothing was moving, everything was stationary.

Slowly, she opened the carriage door and stepped out. The dirt on the wheels of the carriage kicked up remained unmoving in the air, and birds paused in the sky. She took careful steps away from where Vaan and Penelo sat. Splashed water and the children responsible held tightly in place in the fountain. The whole world was standing still. Despite her efforts to tell herself otherwise, Ashe turned around to face the Occurian that existed between her and the open door of the carriage.

Mist shimmered around its pinkish form. Its edges were smooth, but the shadows made it look soft, like the flower petals she smelt. Over the years, Ashe had met all the Occurian and spoken with them one on one numerous times. Out of all of them, she liked this one the best. This was the Occurian who pitied humans and argued for them in the council. Never did this one threaten her or promise harm.

"Greetings, Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca," it whispered, the shiny Mist twitching in sync.

"To you, as well," she murmured with a small nod of her head. She gestured around her with her whole arm and it felt like she was walking through spider webs. "What is all this?"

"Marrying into Rozzaria is a mistake, Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca," it said, its tone almost helpful. It sounded husky and withered, a gentle old woman with crows feet around her eyes and brittle bones in her wrists offering kindly advice to the youths that ask for it. Ashe turned her head away a bit, questioningly.

"The primary belief over the world is in the Gods, in you," she responded, holding her head high. "To openly defy you is to invite religious war to my borders. Rozzaria's army they will never surpass." She folded her arms. "In exchange for such protection, I offer my hand."

"You do not want your country overtaken, so instead you give it to someone else?" The Occurian seemed to chuckle and Ashe admitted that when one says it like _that_ it doesn't sound very good at all.

Since Rozzaria was obviously the greater power of the two, Dalmasca would melt into it, usually. In this case, however, it was simply to become a governing extension; something that was left to rule itself, lest Rozzarian rule deems something unwise and chooses to pull rank. No taxes are paid to the 'Mother Country', as terms go, and nothing about Dalmasca has to change. It was a very good deal, especially since Rozzaria is all for peaceful expansion and is very territorial: if any country attempted to invade Rozzarian-Dalmascan soil, they'd have a full scale war on their hands, and Dalmasca wouldn't have to lift a finger to help.

All of that for one lifetime payment, the low, low price of her hand in marriage. Al-Cid would never make Rozzarian King, he isn't up to warring it out with his kin over the position, but to become Ashe's husband would entitle him much power and status in his country's court. Not to mention he'd never have to sweat an assassination for the sake of the crown, since King Dalmasca would be the end of the road politically.

Ashe's lips parted. It suddenly dawned on her why he called her 'princess'; not to infuriate her, though that may be good guess, but because if she married him, she'd forever be a Rozzarian Princess. _You will always be a princess to me_. Damn him, he knew she was going to ask!

"Rozzaria is the best thing for my country."

"Because you willingly merge with Rozzaria makes for better than being an Arcadian puppet?" Ashe opened her mouth, and then promptly closed it. _Yes_ was the first thing to come to mind, but it sounded childish even to her. It continued when she did not. "Just because Rozzaria is not your enemy, does not make it you friend, Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca."

Ashe began moving towards the carriage. The Occurian quietly floated out of the way. "I cannot leave my country unprotected," she said as she began up the golden metal steps.

"Then perhaps a war is not what you should be starting?"

Before she could say anything to _that_ or get all the way inside the carriage, time resumed and she cried out as she was thrown through the door and onto the floor, Penelo and Vaan screaming in surprise.

The cabby pulled the reigns dangerously hard at their shrieks, Basch nearly ripping the door from its hinges. Penelo sat on her knees, asking if her majesty was all right, as Vaan had a hold of her wrist, trying to pull her hand away from his knee; she was digging her nails in as she used it for support.

Most of her hair had fallen out, although the pins were still entangled. She pushed herself onto her hand and knees, still having a hold of Vaan's leg, as she hissed, "To the castle."

"Your Highness--"

She cut Ktjn and the others off. "Castle! Now!" she barked over her shoulder, glaring through the freed bangs. "Gabranth, take a seat." The offer was almost sarcastic, but he did so anyway, Ktjn ordering for a path to be cleared through the crowd. Ashe drew her legs to her side, leaning her back against the other door and huffed.

"What the hell was that?!" Vaan asked, glaring down at her. Penelo had her hands on either side of the bleeding half circle her nails had left on his knee.

"Your Highness?" Basch echoed.

Ashe folded her right arm around her waist, her left hand slowly tucking loose hair behind her ear. She glared into the sunlight until the door was closed and it wasn't until they began moving again that she spoke.

"The wedding cannot wait."

Penelo was dabbing a small cloth with Potion on it around Vaan's knee, but stopped short, and his look of angry surprise did nothing to shake Ashe's words.

"After the city is evacuated, we fly for Rozzaria."

* * *

**Author's Note: So… for those of you who've moved on to better things (or things that get updated), uh… sorry I suck as a writer. For those of you who stuck through this yearlong (Jesus Christ) hiatus--Ogro in particular--here's your reward! A lead up. And as for new comers, yearlong breaks are not something I do! Don't expect it. Next chapter will have not just Balthier and Fran physically introduced, but actually taking on their roles. This is dedicated to lots of people, but Ogro mostly because she was nice enough to constantly, though gently, point out that I was basically being an undedicated ass. Which I like to think I'm not.**

**EDIT  
Jesus Christ. Orgo is a _he. _Ahhh, I'm sorry/sad panda**

**I know that the first two chapters (two especially) set the bar pretty high. And while everything else isn't really _bad_, it's just not meeting those two. I hope to really turn that around, and maybe I won't be able to reach the same level I did for those two continually, I hope to hit that mark when it's best for the story.**

**Now, whether or not anyone wants to hang around while I do that is kinda… But I do hope I'm able to do justice to an idea that everyone really seems to love. Wish me luck and here I go!**

**On a different note, Ashe not being fully recognized, or accepted. Some people seem to think that that idea is a bit on the ludicrous side of things, but what I'm mostly drawing on in that department was the Grand Duchess Anastasia and the mistaken identity that followed her death. Several women claimed to be her, and one of them succeed, one Anna Anderson, who succeeded, so a certain extent, and it would not be until decades later that she was proven false. In the far more primitive would of Ivalice, it doesn't strike me as odd at all to assume that women would step forward, calling themselves 'Ashelia.' And since Rabanastre knew Ashe as 'Amalia,' I don't see why they would be blamed for being outraged that she was giving the crown.**

**And while a large amount of people might be willing to believe her, she has absolutely nothing to back her words. And nothing prompt doubt more than lack of proof. This is how I treat the situation.**

**R&R please, and any commentary, suggestions or critism is welcomed (seriously).**


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